


little bag of horrors

by 101places



Series: trauma days [7]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s01e06 FZZT, Episode: s03e09 Closure, Episode: s03e10 Maveth, Episode: s04e15 Self Control, Episode: s05e14 The Devil Complex, Episode: s06e06 Inescapable, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 05:46:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20773526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/101places/pseuds/101places
Summary: After escaping from the chronicom mind prison, Fitz and Simmons decide to talk about some of the issues that were brought up in a rather unique way.( AKA : fitz and simmons talk about their trauma for over 20k words )





	little bag of horrors

**Author's Note:**

> holy shit im so glad that i finally finished this. i started this the day after inescapable aired and i thought id have it done in a week at most. then it just kept growing... also as i started this after inescapable it doesnt acknowledge any of s6 after inescapable. so no izel, no chronicom uprising, just fitz and simmons (and occasionally enoch) talking about their issues
> 
> this is the longest one-shot i've ever written and holy shiiit i cant believe it got so long sdfghdgfhs
> 
> as a note, this fic includes a lot of talk about trauma, so there will be sensitive topics. off the top of my head, there is: discussion of abuse, victim blaming (from the pov of a victim), ableism (from the pov of a disabled person), torture, discussion of brainwashing, discussion of death, panic attacks and flashbacks.
> 
> if you like this please kudos/comment so i know whether i should put this much effort into a one-shot again
> 
> i hope you enjoy!

In the end, escaping from the Chronicom proved to be easier than FitzSimmons had feared it would be- in fact, they hadn’t had to do anything. Enoch proved that he cared, and turned against his entire race to save his best friend and best friend in law. The trio had escaped to the planet of Kitson and, using some funds that he’d swiped from the Chronicom vessel, Enoch had set FitzSimmons up with somewhere to spend the night.

It was small and cramped, and if Enoch wasn’t able to find them a ship to get off the planet by tomorrow they’d have nowhere left to sleep, but by this point neither of them particularly cared about that. They were just happy to be together and, more or less, safe.

At first they’d just laid there in the completely uncomfortable, tiny, alien bed, too happy to be in each other’s company to care about where they were. But then their minds had wandered, and while they were no longer mentally linked, it was clear what they were both thinking of.

“I do want to talk about it.” It was Simmons who broke the silence. “But I don’t know how. There’s so much- not just the time that you missed, but before then. Where do we even start?” She paused, then added quickly: “And if you so much as think about saying  _ the beginning _ again, I will hit you.”

Fitz craned his neck to look down at her, wincing at the uncomfortable position. “I don’t know what else to suggest. Sorting through it in chronological, or reverse chronological, order seems the most straight-forward. It’s the easiest way to make sure we bring up everything that we need to.” Noticing her irritated expression, he quickly tried to diffuse the tension by throwing in a joke. “Or, I suppose, we could- we could completely randomise it.”

He was expecting her to roll her eyes and give him an  _ Ugh, Fitz _ as she usually did when he gave her a ridiculous suggestion, but instead her brows were furrowed as if she was seriously considering it.

“Uh, I- I was kidding.” He tried to explain before she could get too carried away down that rabbit hole.

“But it’s not a bad idea.” She said, clearly still half in her thoughts. “When we went on trips when I was younger we had a system-”

“-Your dad didn’t come up with this system, did he? Because I’m not sure how much I trust-”

“ _ Ugh, Fitz _ ,” There it was. “As I was saying, we had a  _ system _ . Everyone would write on a little slip of paper where they would like to go, and we would put the slips of paper into a hat, and when it came time to go on a trip we would pull out a slip and whatever was written on it would be where we went. We could apply a similar system here.”

“What? Go on couples trips? I don’t see how that would help with- oh. Oh. You meant the- right. Okay.” He considered the suggestion for a moment, “Alright. I don’t see any harm in trying.”

Simmons face lit up and she pulled out of bed. Fitz was a bit disappointed to be apart from her, but as he pulled himself up to a sitting position he had to admit that there was something nice about seeing a spring in her step again. He wondered, with a spark of amusement, if she was really thinking this through, or if she was just caught up in her happiness over having a plan of action.

She found what she was looking for in her jacket pocket- a pen and a few scraps of paper. She jotted down some issues onto the paper, then tore them apart so each issue was on a separate piece, before handing the blank paper and pen to Fitz. He did the same, then looked over at her.

“What now?”

“Well, we don’t really have any hats, so we’ll just use your hands.” She decided, indicating for him to cup his hands. He did as he was told, and she deposited her slips into his hands, before shutting her eyes and fishing out a slip.

She unfolded the slip, read what was written on it, and scowled. “You know, I think you were right about this. Starting from the beginning may be a better idea, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Fitz set the other slips of paper aside and held his hand out. “Let me see.”

Simmons hesitated, and for a second Fitz thought she was going to refuse, but then she sighed and handed the slip over. Fitz looked down to see what was written on it and had to try very hard not to smirk.

“Ugh, Fitz.”

“What? I didn’t say anything.”

“I know that look on your face! You think this is funny!”

“I don’t think this is funny.” Fitz lied.

Written on the paper were two words:  _ Music Box _ . 

It was quite the issue to start with, and frankly Fitz thought it would be better saved for her to discuss with a therapist, but as far as he knew there was quite the lack of therapists- or, indeed, any type of mental health professional- on the planet of Kitson. Which was really a shame, thinking about it, because Fitz was sure that there were many people here who could do with help.

Back to the one person that Fitz wanted to help, though.

“Come on. Sit down.” He tried, petting the space on the bed that she’d previously occupied.

Simmons pulled a face. “I actually think I’d rather have my brain hollowed out than talk about this.”

Realising how distressed she was, Fitz pulled back and began to see the situation as seriously as she did. “You know that repression like that isn’t healthy, right?”

Simmons shifted on the spot, uncomfortable. “It’s better than the alternative.”

“The alternative?”

“You know,” She gestured vaguely, “Letting other people see. In case you hadn’t noticed, Fitz, I don’t like to burden others with my emotional issues.”

“You’re not burdening anyone, Jemma.” Fitz said, his voice gentle but firm. “Nobody feels burdened by your problems. Everyone wants to help you.”

Simmons chuckled darkly. “Yes, well, that’s the thing, isn’t it? Everyone else- every single member of our team- has been through  _ so much worse _ . Brainwashing, torture, extreme near-death-experiences, losing family. I won’t deny that what I’ve been through was…  _ uncomfortable _ , but compared to everyone else? It’s been nothing. How can I ask anyone to put up with my nonsense?”

She started speaking so confidently, but as she went on her confidence wavered, and by the time she was finished she looked so uncertain. Lost.

“Jemma, Jemma…” Fitz was at a loss of what to say. He reached forward and took her hands in his, stroking them with his thumb as he tried to come up with the right words. “Your trauma isn’t- it’s not any less than anyone else’s. You- You’ve been through so much- so much more than anyone should’ve expect you to. That’s not- it’s not just- it’s not nonsense.”

Simmons looked away, looking at their joint hands. “I’ve seen so much as the team’s doctor. I’ve seen the extent of everyone’s pain. What I’ve been through can’t compare.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Fitz argued gently, “But even if it was- so what? That’s- there’s always going to be people who’ve suffered more than you, but- but if that meant that your suffering doesn’t count then there’d only be one person in the world that’d be allowed to grieve. And that’s just silly, now, isn’t it?”

She smiled tiredly at his attempt at humour, and he gently pulled her closer. She let him, and took back her place on the ridiculously uncomfortable bed. “It doesn’t feel right. It feels like I should be better than that. It feels like I should be able to take anything without it affecting me.”

“Jemma, you know that I love you, and that I think you are the most incredible person on any planet, but you’re still just a person. You’re not some- some Chronicom who can just shut your emotions off. You’re a person and that comes with baggage.”

“That’s it, though. I’ve read papers about it in the past. I didn’t really think it applied to me, but- well- it’s called the Golden Child Syndrome. I’m sure you’ve heard of it before. That’s what it was like when I was younger- everyone thought that I could do anything and, well, I suppose that I could, but there was always…” She sighed, struggling for the words.

“Emotional difficulties?” Fitz suggested.

“Right.  _ Emotional difficulties _ . I could solve any equation you put in front of me with no problem, but no one taught me how to handle my emotions.” She sighed, dropping her head onto Fitz’s shoulder. “I had these terrible nightmares when I was small, and a lot of underlying anxiety, but the only solutions to these problems I was ever presented with was that music box.”

Fitz wrapped his arm around her, combing his fingers through her hair. “I had no idea. Whenever you spoke about your childhood you always made it sound so… idyllic.” He paused, then added with a touch of embarrassment. “I was a bit jealous of you.”

She smiled sadly. “Well, it wasn’t all bad, and my parents- bless them- they really did try their best. I don’t harbour any resentment, and I know that they love me. They just weren’t particularly equipped to deal with me.”

“You’re allowed to be upset about it.” Fitz spoke softly. “If you- if you feel like that’d help. You can be upset about it without hating them or- or something like that.”

“I know. I do know that.” She sighed. “I wish the music box had worked. Thoughts… emotions… they can all get so complicated. Everything would be so much easier if I could simply sort them away nice and neat and tidy.”

“Maybe, but you can’t really get rid of the bad and keep the good. And, anyway, if you got rid of your emotions then you’d just be a Cyberman, and we can’t be having that.”

They fell into a comfortable silence as Simmons settled against his side. Fitz hesitated as he considered whether or not to say what was bouncing around in his mind, but eventually he decided to just bite the bullet and go for it.

“Jemma? I wasn’t… I wasn’t really joking, before, when I said you need therapy.”

“Fitz,” Simmons began, but before she could continue he powered on.

“And not just you. I do, too. I think we both need it. We’ve seen- we’ve seen so much while working for SHIELD and I don’t- I don’t think either of us are equipped to handle it ourselves. We need help, and that’s- I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

Simmons didn’t reply for a while, and Fitz began to feel anxious, worrying that he’d over-stepped. Then, so quiet that he thought he’d imagined it at first, he heard her breathe out. “Okay.”

“Jem?” He prompted, making sure he’d really heard her right.

“I said ‘Okay’,” She repeated. Her voice sounded strained. “I don’t know if it’ll work, but… we can try.”

Fitz pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you.”

“...Can we stop talking about me now?”

Fitz laughed quietly. “Okay. Until next time.”

Simmons pulled a face. “Next time we’d better pull out one of your issues.”

.

As it happened, getting a ship off of Kitson was harder than it seemed. With Fitz still insisting that gambling was too dangerous after last time, their progress was slow. Currently, FitzSimmons were wandering around one of the less shady parks of Kitson hand-in-hand.

Fitz had been regaling Simmons with a story of his adventures over the past year, and she had been listening intently, though now that the story was coming to its end, Fitz realised that he didn’t have any more material to distract them from their current situation. Noticing his anxiety, Simmons frowned and looked at him.

“Fitz? What is it?” She asked.

“Nothing.” He lied, then immediately sighed and told the truth. “I’m just concerned about Enoch. He should be back by now.”

“I’m sure he’s fine.” Simmons reassured him- and she really did believe that. Enoch was a lot of things, but weak wasn’t one of them. She was sure that he’d simply become caught up with something.

Fitz still didn’t seem convinced, looking away with a frown. Gently, Simmons tugged him further down the path, towards a bench to the side, and the pair sat down on it. “You know,” She said, “There is something we could do to distract ourselves.”

Fitz looked over. “What?”

“We could talk about  _ something _ .”

It took Fitz a moment, but he caught what she was dropping. He raised his eyebrows. “I thought after the last time you’d put this off for as long as possible.”

Simmons shrugged. “It… wasn’t as bad as I expected it to be.  _ And, anyway _ , we had one of my issues last night, so perhaps today the focus won’t be on me.”

“Ah.” Fitz realised what she was doing. “You want to talk about me.”

“It really is only fair.” Simmons argued, “After we spent last night airing my supposedly deep-rooted psychological issues.”

“Supposedly?” Fitz asked, then shook his head. Not the time. “Alright, alright. Did you save the papers?”

Simmons nodded, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a paper bag. “I got a bag for them, too.”

Fitz reached into the bag, picking out a slip of paper and pulling it out. He unfolded it and read it, wincing when he saw the words written. Simmons looked at him expectantly. He hesitated, then showed her the paper so she could read it for herself.

“...Oh god.” Simmons face immediately lost all traces of emotion. “Why is… that’s not fair.”

“It’s randomised. Just because we talked about you last time, it doesn’t mean we won’t get one of your slips today.”

“I know how randomisation works, Fitz.” Simmons snapped, not really focussing on the world around her and more trying to keep the overwhelming emotions that she could feel just below the surface at bay. “I don’t want to do this.”

“You don’t have to.” Fitz said, despite the fact that went against the whole point of this. “We can put it back in and try something else.”

By this point Simmons’s whole body was shaking, and she was physically closing in on herself. Fitz wanted to comfort her, but he had no idea where to start. This wasn’t something that either of them ever should have had to face. Losing her for six months when she’d been trapped on Maveth had been bad enough- but she’d had to see his body. He couldn’t imagine the pain she was experiencing.

“...No.” She spoke up eventually. “No, we… we have a system. We should stick to it. Right?”

Finally, Fitz reached forwards and put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. “...Right. If you think you’re ready.”

With his free hand, he pocketed the slip of paper that read  _ Time Loop Death _ .

“I don’t… I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to do this.” She said.

Fitz nodded. That made sense. This wasn’t something that would ever be easy to talk about. “Can you… um… can you tell me how he died?”

“I wasn’t actually there.” Simmons began. There was a strange quality to her voice- she sounded as though she wasn’t entirely present in the moment. “May and Mack were. I was back on the Zephyr, helping with evacuation. He was… He was rescuing Polly, when it happened. They got her out, but the structural integrity of the building was inadequate.”

She took a shaky breath. “Debris fell on him. A sheet of metal pierced his side. He didn’t make it back to the Zephyr. Mack said he didn’t even realise what was happening.”

Fitz was beginning to shake now too, and nausea began to pool in his stomach. It seemed that this had worked to distract him from Enoch, because now all that he could think about was the pain of death and the pain of being left behind.

“When they told me, I… I didn’t even… I didn’t know how to react.” Simmons was still going. Still explaining. “It was the worst thing I had ever heard. I felt as though my world had ended- as if part of me had died with him. Nothing- Nothing could ever compare to that pain.”

Silence settled over them, and they both quietly cried into the cold night’s air. Eventually, Fitz asked quietly, “How long did it take you to realise I was still out there.”

“A few hours. By that point, everyone had thought I had lost my mind. I wasn’t exactly explaining things in the most sensical way.” She tried to force a smile, but it came out more like a grimace. “May helped me to calm down enough to explain properly, but even then… it was difficult for everyone.”

“Jemma, I’m so… I’m so sorry.”

Finally, Simmons looked up at him, and if her words had broken his heart then her tearful expression shattered what was left of it. All that he wanted was to wipe away all of her sadness, but he knew that was impossible, so instead he gently stroked away her tears.

She leaned into his touch, shutting her eyes. “At first, our crew was large, but as time passed and we hit more and more dead ends, people began to give up. In the end, it was just Daisy, Piper, Davis and myself… and they were only still there because I took the choice from them.”

“But, in the end, it worked out. Everything turned out okay.” She opened her eyes again, meeting his gaze with desperation. “Because I found you.”

“You did.” Fitz agreed, offering her a small, shaky smile, “But… you still… you still lost him. Your  _ husband _ . I don’t- I know that I’m him, technically, but I’m also not. It’s okay to grieve.”

She shook her head. “I’ve done nothing but grieve for a year. I’m sick of it. I just want to move on now.”

“Are you sure that you’re not just putting one more problem into your music box?”

“Fitz…”

“I just…” He frowned, trying to think of how to put this. “Grief isn’t- it’s not- it’s not something that finishes. Not- not really. People say that time heals but that isn’t- it’s not really true. Grief isn’t linear. Just because it’s been a year, it doesn’t mean that you can’t still- it doesn’t mean that you need to be over it.”

Simmons dropped her gaze. “It feels so pointless. It’s over. Why do I still… Even though everything’s fixed, why does it still feel so bad?”

“I don’t know.”

She frowned. “You were so full of wisdom a few seconds ago, I thought you were keeping all of the universe’s secrets in your head.”

He smiled at her. “I’m always full of wisdom, Simmons.”

She laughed tearfully.

“What’s that laugh for? Are you implying that I’m wrong?”

“Of course not, Dr Fitzy.”

She dropped her head onto his shoulder and looked out at the park. It really was quite beautiful here.

“You can talk to me about him. Whenever you need to- or whenever you want to.” Fitz told her. “Or if you don’t want to talk, you can always just find me and we can sit with it together. You don’t need to bottle it up, or face any of it alone.”

“I love you.”

He looked down at her and smirked. “I know.”

She rolled her eyes, before adding: “And I love him, too.”

His gaze softened. “I’m sure that he knows, too.”

They stayed like that for a while, looking out at the park and watching the odd alien pass through, before Simmons spoke up quietly.

“I think you might’ve been right about Enoch.”

“Oh?”

“I’m worried that he’s gotten himself into an awkward situation.”

“That sounds about right.” Fitz rolled his eyes. “Let’s go save my Chronicom best friend.”

.

Fitz collapsed face-first onto his bed, grinning into the sheets. Actual clean sheets! Amazing!

Simmons, on the other hand, was taking her time to look around the room critically. “It’s not exactly first class, but I suppose it’ll do.”

“N- not first class?” Fitz spluttered, “This is the best crew quarter I’ve seen in over a year.”

“Yes, well, clearly you haven’t had many good experiences to compare it to.”

Fitz pulled himself upright and flipped around so that he could see Simmons, pointing a finger at her. “You haven’t even  _ tried _ the bed yet, missy.”

“I’m not a seven year old, Fitz-”

“Not anymore.”

She sent him a glare, before continuing, “I don’t need to bounce on my bed to determine whether it reaches my standards or not.”

A mischievous look crossed Fitz’s face, and before Simmons was given the opportunity to wonder what he was planning, he darted across the room with agility that Simmons had never considered he might possess, grabbed her by the arm and dunked her onto the bed. All she could do was let out a yelp as she hit the bed, tensing as she prepared to hit the hard bed board underneath the mattress.

...Oddly, she didn’t hit it. She lay back on the bed and frowned. “Oh. This is actually very soft.”

Fitz grinned over at her. “Told you.”

Simmons kicked her shoes off and burrowed under the blankets. “I don’t think I particularly want to get up now.”

Fitz laughed. “So it meets your high standards?”

“Yes.” Simmons replied seriously, then her face lit up. “Oh! I just had an idea of something we could do in this bed.”

Fitz balked. “Oh- um- uh- you- you did? I don’t- um- this ship has a whole crew, and Enoch, and I’m- not that I- not that I don’t-”

“We could pull another slip.”

“ _ Oh _ .”

Simmons looked at him strangely. “What were  _ you _ thinking of?”

“Nothing.” He quickly changed the subject. “Um- do you- do you think this is the right… moment for it? We were having fun for once.”

“I’m always having fun when I’m with you.” Simmons replied cheerfully, “And, anyway, maybe that’s what we need. A degree of levity to it. It’ll be exhausting if every issue we discuss reduces us to crying wrecks.”

Fitz considered it, then walked over and retrieved the brown bag, handing it to her. “Let’s do it, then.”

Simmons stuck her hand into the bag and pulled out a slip, setting the bag aside and unfolding the slip. A sad expression crossed her face when she read what was written, but it wasn’t near the same level of anxiety as the previous slips had caused her- Fitz didn’t know if that was down to the content of the slip, the atmosphere of the room, her simply being more comfortable with airing out their issues, or some combination of the three.

She handed the slip to him and he read it, letting out a breath when he saw what was written.  _ Lincoln _ .

He took a seat beside her on the bed.

“He was a good man.” Fitz began.

Simmons nodded. “And rather intelligent. I do wish I could have spoken to him more about Inhumans.”

“But I’m guessing that wasn’t why you put him into the bag?”

“No,” Simmons admitted, “It wasn’t.”

She sighed, staring up at the ceiling, “I wasn’t particularly close with Lincoln. I liked him, but I didn’t know him very well. But seeing his death, and how it impacted on poor Daisy…” She trailed off.

“I didn’t really cope with her leaving.” Fitz spoke up. “It felt like an abandonment. A betrayal.”

“She was hurting.”

“I know that.” Fitz sounded a touch defensive. “But we’ve all been hurt. I- I didn’t run away after my brain damage, or after you-” He cut himself off, deciding to save whatever he had been about to say for another time. “...We’ve all been hurt, but we didn’t run away.”

Simmons hesitated. “Is this really about Daisy?”

Fitz seemed startled, then he fell back on the bed, landing beside her. “I guess not.” He admitted. “I’m just sick of people leaving.”

“You’re over-sensitive to abandonment.” Simmons corrected, her tone not unkind. “Which is understandable. It’s a common symptom in survivors of- I mean, in people who had unpredictable upbringings.”

“Unpredictable upbringings?” He asked, rolling onto his side to face her.

“I didn’t want to sound presumptuous by saying what I meant.”

“What did you mean?”

“...I was going to say that it’s a common symptom in survivors of childhood abuse.”

Fitz paled slightly then looked away. “...Right. Yeah. Yeah. I suppose that’s- yeah, I guess that’s fitting.” He rolled back onto his back, his frustration rising. “Because everything comes back to that, doesn’t it? Everything comes back to  _ him _ .”

“Fitz…”

“No, it’s- it’s- it’s not  _ fair _ .” In that moment, Fitz sounded more like a child than an adult, and Simmons just let him speak. “All my life I’ve had to be in his shadow. I barely thought of him for years, but that was never really true, was it? Because- because he was in everything I said, and everything I did. I wasn’t thinking about him, but he was still there.”

“Early childhood influences do follow into later life.” Simmons spoke cautiously, “But that doesn’t mean that there’s any part of him in you.”

“I know. I’ve thought about- I’ve thought about him and about  _ it _ so much over the last year and a half, and- and I know I’m not- I’m not him. I know I get to choose who I am, and I choose not to be the man that he wanted me to be. But it’s still- he’s still- I look back and all I can see is how him- his influence and his- his absence- shaped me.”

“What are you thinking about, Fitz?”

He paused. “...Ward.”

“Ah.”

“It- it was- it was just-- I’d never- I never really knew anyone else who- who had those- who had bad things happen to them when they were young. I thought- I thought if Ward had those- was the same, I thought that it meant that- that I- that I could be like him, and I could- I could use it to make me stronger and that I could be better than- than that man.” Fitz laughed bitterly. “Then he turned out to be a monster.”

The pieces began to click together in Simmons mind. “Is that why you didn’t want to believe the truth about Ward?”

Fitz let out a shuddering breath. “Yes.”

“Come here.” Simmons said, and Fitz shifted closer to her, letting her wrap her arms around him.

“Ward wasn’t a monster because of his upbringing.” Simmons spoke confidently. “Ward was a monster because he hurt people, knowingly, willfully, and never felt a degree of regret. Ward was a monster because the only person he cared about was himself. Like your father, Ward was a terrible person because of nothing but how he hurt others.

“And that’s the difference between you and them. You are the most kind, empathetic and compassionate person that I have ever met. You are not Ward, and you are not your father.”

Fitz dropped his head into the crook of her neck, and she held him tighter.

“I’m glad this one wasn’t about me.” Simmons spoke up lightly after a while.

She could feel Fitz rolling his eyes. “Yes, well, I remember you threw yourself into your work back then. I can’t believe I didn’t notice what you were doing.”

“I am very talented at acting natural.”

“You don’t have to sound so proud about it.” He pulled back. “I don’t think your thing about levity worked.”

“It was worth a shot.” She sighed.

Fitz pressed down on the mattress with one of his hands. “This bed really is ridiculously soft. I think I might have the best sleep I’ve had, ever.”

Simmons took his free hand and entwined their fingers. “Every night I get to spend with you becomes the best sleep I’ve had.” She said. Fitz looked over at her with wide eyes, and she couldn’t stop herself from smirking. “I told you I could be romantic.”

He laughed, and leaned forward to press his lips to hers. She happily gave in to the kiss. There really was nowhere that she’d rather be.

.

“I would rather be anywhere but here.”

The cupboard that FitzSimmons had thrown themselves into after Enoch’s warning was cramped, and there was barely enough room for them to move. Simmons didn’t particularly mind being pushed up against Fitz’s chest- it was, after all, her preferred place to be- but she could feel the beginning of claustrophobia creeping in.

“It could be worse.” Fitz tried to decrease the tension, “We could be stuck in an alien mind prison being forced to relive various memories while being hunted by our shadow selves.”

Simmons groaned. “We’ve done this already.”

“What?”

“In a tiny campervan. We went around listing our traumas. It was pretty funny- May seemed to consider dancing on the same level as various near-death experiences.”

“That does sound like her.” Fitz hummed.

“Speaking of, though,” Simmons awkwardly stuck her hand into her pocket, ignoring Fitz’s complaints as her elbow dug into his chest, and pulled out the brown bag. “This is proving to be an effective way to pass the time.”

Fitz gave her a strange look. “Do you just carry that about with you?”

“Well, you never know when your best friend is going to lock us in a closet to avoid alien marauders, now do you?” Simmons countered.

Fitz didn’t really have an argument for that. “If I pull out something particularly scary I am putting it back in.” He warned, “This is the worst place to have a panic attack.”

“Yes, yes, just get it over with.” Simmons held out the bag for him.

Fitz pulled a slip of paper out, frowning as he read it in the dim light. “I… don’t know what this means.” He held it out to Simmons, and she pulled a face as she read the words  _ Invincible Trio _ . “Is it a bad one?”

“They’re all bad, Fitz,” Simmons commented dryly, “But this one isn’t particularly bad, no.”

Fitz leaned back against the cupboard’s wall as best as he could, trying not to knock anything off of the shelves, and looked at her expectantly.

“Well… I told you that it was a time loop of the end of the world,” she began, “Yo-Yo and I, we developed a hypothesis. We both had evidence that in the future we had seen, we survived up until a certain point. Therefore, we theorised that we would not die.”

Fitz nodded. “That makes sense. Time can’t be changed, so you would survive at least until the points that you saw.” Then he paused, frowning. “...But… time was changed, wasn’t it? So many academics cry out in horror…”

“Right, yes, well, please ignore that second part.” Simmons quickly brushed it aside. “‘The invincible trio’ is a silly name, but it seemed the easiest way to describe Yo-Yo, you and myself during that period.”

“Okay. It seems fine so far. So why did you put it in the bag?”

Simmons hesitated. She was beating around the bush here. “I thought it was something that might come back when we get back home. I thought it would be better coming from me.”

“What aren’t you saying?”

She sighed. “A few things. I can’t go into it all right now- there’s a rather complex issue that’s somewhat relevant. That’s in the bag, too, but now is really not the time for it. I suppose the first thing is- when I say that the three of us were a team, what I really mean is- we temporarily ran away from SHIELD.”

“We did what.”

“Like I said, it was complex. We had a lead, but no one would listen to us. So we followed it ourselves. It did not end particularly well, however. We were kidnapped again- don’t worry, no serious harm came to us- and Yo-Yo… she killed- ah- she killed a girl. Ruby Hale. I don’t blame her for it, but that opinion wasn’t shared by everyone.”

Fitz breathed out. “...Okay. Okay. That’s… I’m sorry, that was probably- that was probably terrifying. But I’m glad you weren’t hurt.”

Simmons nodded, but didn’t speak. Fitz frowned at her silence.

“There’s something else, isn’t there?”

Simmons bit her lip but didn’t speak.

“Jemma?”

“Okay,  _ fine _ . It really isn’t a big deal. I’m only bringing it up because I am  _ sure _ that someone will make an inappropriate joke about it at some point, and I think it would be better if I had already told you about it by that point. It was fine, and nothing happened, so don’t go worrying about nothing, but- well- you- you understand how Russian Roulette works?”

Fitz wasn’t sure if he liked where this was going. “...Yes.”

“Well, I had a  _ hypothesis _ . I had to test it. What sort of scientist would I be if I didn’t? And, anyway, it fit in with the plan that Yo-Yo and I had concocted to get you out of- well- to get you to come with us. It was really the only idea that we had. And I knew it would work, so there was really no danger, at all-”

“Jemma. What did you do.”

“...I may have played a version of Russian Roulette with acid.”

“What.”

“ _ Look _ , look, I know it sounds bad like that, but the science was sound- stop looking at me like that! I had three cups of water, and one of acid, and I drank from them randomly, because I knew- I knew I lived long enough to have a daughter, so I knew I would survive. It really wasn’t a big deal, I just knew that Mack, or someone, would over-exaggerate it at some point, and-”

“What… the bloody hell…” Fitz’s voice was muted as he stared at Simmons. Then, he repeated louder, “ _ What _ the  _ bloody hell _ .”

“I  _ knew _ you’d react like this.”

“You drank acid!”

“Ugh, Fitz! I didn’t drink the acid- that was the whole  _ point _ -”

“Why would you do something so dangerous?”

“I had to prove my hypothesis!”

“ _ Did you really _ ?”

“Yes!”

“Couldn’t you have- couldn’t you have picked some- something less dangerous? Or- wait. Wait. Your hypothesis- it wasn’t- you  _ changed the future _ , apparently. So your hypothesis wasn’t even  _ right _ .”

“Well, I didn’t know that at the time!”

“ _ You could have drank acid _ .”

“But I didn’t!”

“I feel sick.”

Simmons rolled her eyes, “Don’t be over-dramatic.”

“No- no, I’m- I’m being serious.”

Simmons pulled back from their argument and realised that he’d paled quite considerably and seemed to be having trouble breathing. Oh dear. That wasn’t ideal.

“Just- Just breathe.” Simmons tried.

“Oh, how  _ helpful _ ,” Fitz ground out, “Why didn’t  _ I  _ think of that.”

She thought she should give him some space, but there wasn’t really any room to do that, so she remained pressed against his chest where she could feel his desperate attempts to get his breathing back under control, and hear the urgent pounding of his heart against his chest. She wasn’t sure what had triggered this.

“It’s okay.” She tried again. “We’re safe in here- except for the angry marauders raiding the ship, but they probably won’t get in here, and- sorry, I’m sure that reminder didn’t help- I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“I can’t  _ believe _ you.” He managed. “I can’t believe you’d just- you’d just drink acid and tell me about it like it’s  _ nothing _ .”

“I’ve already said, I didn’t drink the acid. And it  _ was _ nothing. Nothing happened. I drank three glasses of water. That’s  _ all _ that happened.”

He threw his head back, wincing as it hit the wall of the closet. Simmons looked at him in alarm, but going from his irritated expression she realised that it must have been an accident. Perhaps he had been right about this being a bad time to pull out the bag.

“Jemma, Jemma… are you  _ hearing _ yourself?” He asked, his breathing more firmly under control. “Your theory wasn’t even right. You could have died. There was a 25% chance that you could’ve died.”

“But I didn’t.”

“I know. I know, but I-” He brought his hand up, rubbing at his face, “I- I’m just- I’m just thinking that I- I could’ve been the one to lose you.”

...Oh.

Suddenly she found herself understanding his reaction.

“I didn’t think about it like that.” She said blankly.

“What… on earth could have been happening to make you- to make you think tha- that was a good idea?”

“I told you. It was… complex. So much happened, Fitz… I wish I could say that was the strangest thing.” She sighed. “But if- if it helps, I really- I really did think that I wouldn’t die. I was confident that I would survive.”

He laughed bitterly. “I don’t think that makes it better, Jemma. It just makes it a different kind of bad.”

She looked away, a hollow feeling growing in her chest. “I don’t know what to say. This wasn’t a big deal to me.”

He shifted, looking down at her with a serious expression. “You haven’t gotten thoughts like that before, have you?”

“Thoughts like what?”

“Thinking you’re invincible.”

Simmons rolled her eyes. “Ugh, Fitz. It was a hypothesis that I had reason for believing in. It wasn’t some _delusion_ _of grandeur_.”

“I… never said it was.” Fitz said calmly, “But… sometimes you- you sometimes can get carried away with your experiments.”

“This, coming from  _ you _ ?”

“It’s not a competition, Jemma. I’m ju- I’m just saying, sometimes it’s concerning.”

Simmons wished that she could argue against that, but they had just established her experiment that could have killed her, so she had to accept that there may be some degree of truth to what he was saying.

“What are you suggesting we do about it?” She eventually asked.

“I don’t know.” He groaned. “Talk about it? Or- or take risk assessments more seriously?”

She knew that second suggestion was more a joke than anything, and she chuckled softly. “That I think I can do.”

He wrapped his arms around her finally. It really was the most practical position for them to be in while stuck in this closet.

“I just don’t want you to be hurt.” He said, resting his head on top of hers. “Ever.”

“I think we’re in the wrong business for that.” She joked lightly.

He chuckled, but held her tighter. She looked down.

“I’ll be more careful. Or, I’ll try to be.”

“That’s all I can ask for.”

They stayed like that until Enoch eventually came to retrieve them, the marauders having been fought off.

.

The crew of the ship, including FitzSimmons, were meant to eat together. It was intended to help them bond as a group, supposedly, but after two days of group meals the pair had quickly decided that it wasn’t for them. Surprisingly, Enoch seemed to enjoy the socialisation despite not needing to eat, so they let the Chronicom represent them during these meals.

Currently, FitzSimmons were squirreled away in one of the unoccupied rec rooms, cautiously eating their meal.

“I was thinking,” Simmons began, but before she could finish Fitz cut her off.

“Let me guess- the brown bag?”

“Actually, I was going to say that I was thinking about how interesting it is to be given the opportunity to sample foods from different planets. But, now that you mention it, I suppose now wouldn’t be a terrible time to pull it out.”

Fitz rolled his eyes, and she pulled the bag out of her pocket, taking a slip out of it. She put the bag back into her pocket and looked at what was written on the slip.

“Radcliffe.” She read out, then held the slip out for Fitz to see.

Fitz groaned, moving his food with his cutlery before pushing his plate away from him. “Suddenly, I’m not hungry.”

“Fitz…”

“No, really,” It was obvious that he was growing frustrated, “Why do we have to talk about him? I didn’t put that into the bag.”

“You can’t just talk about the parts that are easy for you.” Simmons snapped. “We agreed to be open. We agreed to be honest. We agreed to talk about these things. I’ve already spoken about things that I never wanted to- this is a two way street. You’re not getting out of it this easily.”

Fitz tapped his fingers against the table. “What is there to talk about? He betrayed us. That’s all there is to it.”

“There has to be more to it than that.” Simmons argued, reigning her previous frustration back in. “You were close. It must have hurt.”

“Yes. It did. But there’s no point in focussing on that.”

He realised his mistake as soon as the words left his mouth.

“There’s no point to grief. It just is. And you’re allowed to grieve. That’s what you told me.”

“It’s different.” He shot back, but the fire had left his words. He just sounded tired.

She reached across the table, placing her hand on top of his. “How is it different, Fitz?”

“You lost your husband. I just… I just lost the man who temporarily filled a void before he turned against me and everyone that I love.”

“Pain isn’t a competition.” She paused. “And, anyway, if only the person who had been through the most pain was allowed to feel it, then only one person in the universe would be able to be sad. You said that was silly.”

“Sometimes I hate how much attention you pay to what I say.” Fitz complained. Then he sighed, rubbing at his face with his free hand. “I don’t know, Jemma. I don’t- I don’t understand how he could pretend to be my friend for so long and then… and then put us through  _ that _ . Then he had to make it more complicated by saving me. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel.”

“You’re not ‘supposed’ to feel anything. However you feel, that’s just- that’s just how it is.”

Fitz groaned. “I don’t know how I feel.”

“Then talk to me about it. Fitz, please?”

He didn’t want to do this. He would rather be anywhere but here. He wanted the ground to swallow him up and spit him out into deep space- that would be preferable than having to talk about this. But… he wanted her to be open with him. He wanted Simmons to not feel the need to repress her emotions. How could he ask that of her if he wasn’t willing to do the same?

“It was great, at first.” He finally spoke, making rather intense eye contact with the strange alien meat he had been trying to convince himself to eat prior to this conversation. “He was- I- I never, I never would’ve thought of myself as missing a- you know. After  _ he _ walked out on us my mother was enough. I didn’t feel like I was missing anything. But then Radcliffe was there and it was- it was- I saw everything I hadn’t realised I missed.

“You were so- you were so busy, and I- I’m not blaming you, I know it was hard, but he was there and he wa- he was so supportive. It felt like he understood. He- he understood in a way that no one except you ever had, and I thought- I- I thought I understood him too.” His shoulders sagged. “But I didn’t.”

Suddenly, there seemed to be more energy to him. “And- and neither did he, because he just- he used me. He used my mind to perfect his bloody virtual torture machine, and  _ AIDA _ . He did that. Then he had the nerve to- to talk about how much he cared about me. To say it was all a mistake. To  _ save _ me and say it- it wasn’t my fault? As if he knew anything that he was talking about.”

“But, Fitz, it  _ wasn’t _ your fault.” Simmons spoke up gently when he paused for breath. “It was  _ horrible _ , and  _ traumatising _ , but it wasn’t your fault, because you’re right- he did use you.”

Fitz looked over at her, and continued to talk rapidly. “Maybe, but I still let myself get used. I didn’t appropriately map out the potential consequences of my actions and- and look what happened. Mace died, and I shot Agnes. I ordered Daisy’s torture, and I  _ nearly killed you _ . All because I didn’t stop and think.”

“Fitz, slow down.”

Finally he stopped, looking over at her with wide eyes, breathing heavily.

Now that she had his attention she continued gently, “You didn’t let anything happen. Radcliffe’s mind was twisted by the Darkhold, and, yes, he used your brain and your creations against you. But you aren’t to blame for his actions.” She took his other hand in her free one, bringing them together in the middle of the table. “I don’t blame you. I don’t blame you for anything that you did in the Framework, but if you do, then maybe you could do something productive to help with that.”

He looked at her suspiciously. “What do you mean?”

“You feel guilty that something you created caused harm, right?” She asked, not waiting for him to reply before continuing. “Then make something that can’t cause harm. Make- I don’t know- a toy.”

He blinked slowly. “Your answer to my deep-rooted psychological issues is to make a toy.”

She huffed. “I’m a biochemist, Fitz, not a psychologist.”

“I appreciate the thought.” He said, his tone genuine.

She idly played with their hands, her thumb stroking over his wedding ring. “I know that I can’t make all of that just go away, but I’m going to be here with you every step of the way.”

He curled his hand around hers in return. “I know, and I could never be more grateful.”

.

The ship had been flying uninterrupted for hours, and after finishing their assigned chores, FitzSimmons had found themselves becoming very, very bored. After spending time talking and bickering amongst themselves, Fitz had finally settled down with a collection of disused parts, trying to assemble them into something resembling a toy.

Across from him, Simmons was reading a book. It was written in some alien language, and Fitz had no idea if she could somehow read it, or if she was just pretending to out of boredom. She laughed quietly at something in the book, and Fitz was forced to conclude that she was either reading from it, or she’d completely lost it.

“How…” He began, “Can you read that?”

She looked up as if she’d forgotten that he was in the room, but he immediately recognised it as an act.

“Oh? Did I not mention it?” She asked coyly. He knew exactly what she was doing.

“Mention what?”

“I can read Naro-Atzian.”

“Huh.” He looks back down at his tool. “That’s interesting.”

There’s silence between them for a few moments, then:

“What? That’s it? Just  _ that’s interesting _ ? I was a lot more receptive when you told me that you’d learnt how to speak Sivian.”

“There it is.” He was trying not to laugh. “Dr Jemma Simmons, who considers learning alien languages a competition.”

She looked up from her book fully with a fierce glare. He didn’t need to be looking at her to know exactly what expression she wore. He turned away so that she couldn’t see his smile.

“I never said it was a competition.” She argued, “But if it was, I think that reading is more complex than speaking.”

He actually couldn’t stop himself from laughing that time. She was so ridiculous sometimes.

“When you read you have to worry about- about grammar, and spelling, and punctuation. I’ll give you that. But with speaking you have all sorts of inherent social rules. Do you think you could learn the complex social rituals of the Sivians in a few months, Jemma?”

“Yes.” She replied easily. In hindsight, perhaps he should have seen that coming. “Especially if I had a specialised teacher to help me with it- which, I would like to note, I did not have when I learnt how to read Naro-Atzian.”

He smirked down into his toy, but didn’t reply.

With a huff, she shut the book and put it aside. “Fitz. I’m bored.”

“I thought you were reading.”

“Yes, well, it wasn’t a particularly interesting book.” So her laughter had been faked. He had to try not to laugh again. “It was about the Naro-Atzian tax system. Even in an alien culture, taxes just aren’t interesting.”

He focused back on the toy he was making. She managed a good few seconds of silence, before speaking up again. “Maybe we could talk about another problem.”

He shook his head fondly. “Are you really so desperate for attention that you’re bringing this up?”

“I’m not desperate for attention,” She argued, “But I like to think that we have been getting better at discussing these things- and, I will admit, that there is something freeing about being able to share difficult things with you.”

Something about that caused a twinge in his heart. There was nothing he wanted more than to be someone she felt comfortable talking to about anything. He still didn’t look up from his toy, but he nodded. “My hands are busy right now. Can you-”

“On it.” He heard the sound of paper rustling as she pulled out the brown bag. “There are still quite a number left, but we’re making good headway. Right, let’s see…”

She pulled out a slip of paper and unfolded it. He waited for her to tell her what the topic was, but the room had become deathly silent. Fitz looked up from his toy, concerned.

The playful expression that had been on Simmons face previously was gone. She looked as if she was frozen in space, still staring down at the paper, though there was a glassy look to her eyes and he wasn’t entirely convinced that she was mentally present in the room.

He set his toy aside, slowly walking towards her, stopping a couple of feet away. He knelt down a few feet in front of her, not wanting to make matters worse by getting into her personal space when he didn’t know what was happening. “Jem,” He called out softly. “Can you hear me?”

It took a few moments, but eventually she took in a shuddering breath and blinked, tears spilling out onto her cheeks. Her gaze darted around the room as she tried to place where she was, and Fitz wasn’t sure when was the last time he’d seen her look so small and vulnerable. He wanted to wipe away her tears and pull her close to him, but knew better. He couldn’t make the first step there.

When her gaze eventually reached him he smiled gently. “Hey. There you are.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not sure what came over me.” She said, but there was a strange quality to her voice, and Fitz wasn’t convinced that she was fully back.

“I can hazard a guess.” He looked down at the slip of paper that was still angled away from him. He was nervous to see what had triggered this, but knew that he’d be better equipped to help knowing the context. “Do you want to let me see?”

She held the paper out to him, and dropped her hand to her side when he took it. He took his attention off of her for a moment to read what was written, and felt his heart sink when he saw it. Distantly, he felt a swirl of powerful emotions rising in his stomach- fear, horror. Anger.

He’d put this slip in the bag in the first place. When they had returned from Gloucestershire castle the second time, they had spoken about everything that had happened a bit, but between Will’s death and Andrew’s release, everything had gotten mixed up. They hadn’t been given the opportunity to properly acknowledge what had happened to them there- and, he was realising, that was in no small part due to Simmons avoiding the topic.

He was beginning to understand why.

He both wanted to start talking about it immediately, and to throw the paper away and reassure her that they would never had to think about it again. But neither of those responses would be helpful, so instead he put it into his pocket and turned his focus back onto Simmons, who had been staring distantly at a spot on the wall.

“Jemma,” He began quietly, so as to not startle her. “Can you tell me how you’re feeling?”

She didn’t reply at first, and Fitz began to wonder if the question had been too open, but then she spoke up. “I’m fine.”

“Even if I wasn’t aware of your issues with repression I wouldn’t believe that. It’s okay to tell me what’s happening. I want to help.”

She went quiet again. “I just wasn’t expecting it. I didn’t know it was in the bag.”

He felt a twinge of guilt, but stamped it down. The whole point of this was to talk about these things. Yes, she was suffering right now because she’d been triggered, but she would still be suffering if she was allowed to keep suppressing her feelings. Even if it felt counter-intuitive, sometimes it really was better to just let things hurt.

“We never really talked about it. Not properly.” He said as an explanation. “I thought we should change that.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Nothing.” He spoke quickly. “You don’t have to say anything. Not right now. We need to talk about it, but- but I don’t want you to be hurt.”

She managed a bitter smile. “I don’t think that there is any time that I could speak about this without it hurting, Fitz.”

His hand shook as he felt anger begin to win out as his dominant emotion. He was furious that this had ever happened- he was furious that anyone had wanted to hurt her. He was furious that he hadn’t been able to stop it sooner when it was happening, and that he couldn’t take her pain away from her now. 

She sighed softly. “You’ve already helped me with this a lot, Fitz, and really, I do not think of it often.” Some degree of normalcy was starting to return to her voice. “Yes, when I’m reminded of it I can react strongly, but it isn’t often that I am reminded of it anymore.”

She paused, finally looking over at him. “Do you still think about it?”

He let out a shaky breath, finally taking a seat beside her. He kept some distance between them in case she still needed it, but she closed the space, looking up at him with big eyes.

“Sometimes.” He admitted. Sometimes when they were laying in bed together his hand would brush against her scars, and while he didn’t tend to have flashbacks in the same way as she did, the guilt of not being able to protect her would threaten to make him drown.

“I just can’t get past how anyone could do that to you.” He said. “And it makes me so angry to think of how much pain was forced onto you, when you were already having to recover from Maveth, and then it just got worse. No one should ever have to go through hell like that, but especially not you.”

“But what about you?”

Fitz blinked. “I just said-”

“No. That was about me. You were forced through hell- quite literally, might I add, as you were made to go to that awful place. You must have been scared.”

He shook his head. “I wasn’t scared for myself. It was just you. I was terrified of failing, and giving them a reason to hurt you more or- or kill you. You know I couldn’t live in a world without you in it.”

He realised that he was beginning to tear up, his anxiety from that time rearing its head even though Simmons was sat next to him, more-or-less safe and unharmed. Simmons looked away with a small frown.

She had his full attention. “What are you thinking?” He asked when he was sure his breathing was under control.

She hesitated, picking her words carefully. “I wonder if this is your version of my music box.”

“What?”

“How many times have we been in traumatising situations where you completely ignore your own safety to focus on mine?” She paused to let her words sink in, but continued before he was given a chance to interrupt. “I know how important I am to you, Fitz, and I know that you don’t want any harm to come to me- because I feel exactly the same way about you- but you can’t go through that and not come out of it without your own scars.”

He swallowed thickly. “What are you saying?”

“I wonder if you’ve been using me to avoid your trauma.” She looked up at him again.

He shook his head. “I don’t- I don’t think that’s right.”

“Then tell me how you felt on Maveth.”

“I don’t know. All I was thinking about was you. But,” He spoke quickly, “he was threatening you. Saying what would happen to you if we didn’t get back to Earth. That- How could I think of myself when he was saying those things?”

“He?”

“Ward.”

Simmons hesitated, unsure if this was a conversation she was equipped to navigate right now. “What about Ward, then? Didn’t he scare you?” Beside her, Fitz tensed, and she realised that she’d hit something. “Fitz?”

“Yes.” He finally said, his voice small. “Yes. Ward scared me.”

Now it was Simmons turn to feel anger on Fitz’s behalf. She tried to keep it under the surface. “Talk to me.”

“I  _ was _ angry. I was angry for what he was having done to you a-and I was scared for you, too, because I could- I could just hear you-” He shut his eyes as if he was trying to block out the memory of it. Simmons cautiously brought her arm up and wrapped it around him, rubbing up and down his side comfortingly. Eventually, Fitz continued in a tiny voice. “But I was scared for me as well.”

Simmons stayed silent for a few moments, seeing if Fitz would continue by himself. When he didn’t she prompted gently. “What were you scared about, Fitz?”

He let out a shuddering breath. “Ward, he- he was always- he was so- he-” He brought one of his hands up to his face, rubbing at it as if he was trying to make his brain make sense of his words. “He rem- he reminded me of my father. He had the same- the sa- the same presence. Strong and angry. It m- made me feel like I was just a scared boy again, and th- then I heard you scream.”

Simmons could feel him trembling, and she worried that she’d pushed too far. Gently, she pulled him closer until his head was resting against her chest, and planted soft kisses into his hair. “I’m sorry for pushing.”

He shook his head. “No. No, I think you were right. I- I think I- I think I’ve been trying to avoid it.”

She smiled sadly. “What a pair we make.”

.

For the first time in days, the ship had docked at a plan to re-stock, and FitzSimmons took the opportunity to get out and stretch their legs. The planet wasn’t too dissimilar to Earth- at least, in terms of atmosphere and gravity. There was a marginally higher percentage of oxygen in the air, which led to the pair feeling more alert and full of energy than they had in a long time. It was a rather pleasant sensation.

Currently, the pair were sat outside a small cafe, trying food that vaguely resembled crepes. They tasted quite nice, and even Fitz had to admit that maybe this alien food wasn’t half bad.

It had been a few days since their last conversation from the bag. They’d had plenty of opportunities to bring it out again, but neither seemed comfortable enough to take the initiative. It seemed that their last conversation had spooked them.

Eventually, it was Fitz that brought it up. “Are we- are we going to talk about the elephant in the room, or just keep trying to ignore it?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” Simmons lied, taking a sip of her hot pink fruit-y drink. It tasted like a banana had a child with a plum.

“You haven’t brought up that bag in days.”

“I was waiting for you to.”

Fitz frowned. “Why?”

“If you recall, you were rather upset after last time.” Simmons reminded him, “I wanted you to be able to continue on your terms.”

“Oh.” He hadn’t expected that. He’d assumed that she had just been using it as an excuse to avoid opening up- he felt oddly touched that she’d been patient. He smiled over at her. “I’m fine now.”

She returned his smile and raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying that you’re ready to open up Pandora’s bag again?”

“I’m saying that I’m ready to face another years-coming trauma with you, yes.”

Simmons passed the bag over to him and he pulled out a slip, squinting down at it.

“What’s a Kasius?”

“Fuck.”

That was a surprise. He wasn’t sure when the last time he’d heard Simmons swear that badly was. He looked over at her, his expression a mixture of confusion and concern. “Jemma?”

She rubbed at her head, “Sorry. I just wasn’t expecting that one to come up now. You don’t have to look at me like that, it isn’t really that bad.”

That wasn’t very comforting. “Last time you told me that one of these wasn’t bad you ended up telling me about the time you drank acid.”

“Ugh, Fitz! We’ve been through this, I didn’t actually drink the acid! That was the whole point!”

He smiled, though his eyes were still concerned. “Tell me what Kasius is, then.”

“He was a Kree who lived in the future.” She sighed, trying to work out how to explain everything. “It was awful, Fitz. Earth had been cracked apart, and what was left of humanity lived in the Lighthouse. The Kree were in charge, and they kept humanity under control. Kasius was in charge of it all.

“When we first arrived there was this… Well, someone was injured. I had to help. Unfortunately, this caused the Kree to take note of me. I was taken away from the others, and… introduced to Kasius.” She looked away, grimacing in displeasure at the memory.

“You see, in the Lighthouse the Kree used humans as- as slaves. Sometimes. Those who had specific skill sets, or those that Kasius just found aesthetically pleasing. He had this whole sickening speech about cultivating beauty. He made me serve him, deafened me and distorted my vision to encourage obedience.”

She seemed to notice the horrified look on Fitz’s face, so she quickly continued. “Daisy came after the first day so I wasn’t alone, and it was only two more days until you arrived. You came in with your own spaceship to save me, it was all very heroic.”

He was still staring at her. “Why do you keep under-playing these things? No- no, I- I know why, just… god, Jemma…”

“I’m not under-playing it. It  _ really _ wasn’t that bad. It was quite satisfying, actually, because I was able to watch Mack kill him.”

“Good.” Fitz spoke darkly, then quickly backtracked, “I- I mean- it’s good that- I’m glad that he’s dead, not that- it’s awful that Mack had to- had to kill someone.”

She laughed. “It  _ was _ good.”

Fitz shook his head slightly, getting back to the point. “I can’t believe that it wasn’t that bad. You were kidnapped by an alien and deafened. How could you not find that terrifying?”

“Well… I suppose it was a little bit frightening at the time.” She grimaced. “You know that my brother is deaf- losing my hearing has never been something that I have particularly seen as a negative. But that wasn’t- having it  _ stolen _ was something completely different.”

Fitz had a sick feeling in his stomach the more she spoke about it, but he got the impression that she hadn’t stopped to think about it much before. “Tell me about it?”

“He used this… implant. He could control what I could hear and what I could not, and that-  _ that’s _ what was frightening. He had total control over me. I couldn’t do anything- and he killed his last slave in front of me, so I was very much aware that he saw me as simply a commodity that could be replaced when I outlived my usefulness.”

Fitz shifted his chair around so he was sat beside, rather than opposite, her, and continued to look at him with wide, horrified eyes. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

“I was not exactly forthcoming with information.” Simmons reminded him dryly. “But, like I said, it really wasn’t that bad. When you arrived that became all I could think about. Even before we escaped, I knew that you would save me.”

“I’m glad that you have confidence in my abilities.” There was the hint of a smirk on his face.

She rolled her eyes, but didn’t deny it. “You did immediately trick Kasius into turning the implant off, so I had reason to have faith.”

“Good.”

She hesitated, wondering if she should say this or not. “When you asked me if I’d heard your proposal before… it was a little bit more complicated than that. Apparently, you had said it before. But I couldn’t hear it.”

His lips parted into a small ‘o’.

“I actually proposed to you as we were escaping.”

His face lit up with a rather adorable goofy smile. “You did?”

“Yes. It was something of a point of contention between us- who proposed first? I stand by that it was me, as I was not able to hear your initial proposal.”

“Ah, but he still said it.”

“That doesn’t count.”

He sighed good-naturedly. “At least we can both agree that  _ I  _ proposed to you first.”

She laughed, and reached up to plant a kiss on his lips. He was, certainly, not complaining.

“What was that for?” He asked, still smiling.

“Did it have to be for anything?” She asked, returning his smile. “I was just thinking about how much I love you, and how happy I am to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Could his heart get more full? He wasn’t sure. “The universe had better watch out now. Now that we’re back together, I’m not going to let anything get between us again.”

She put her hand on his leg and looked up at him warmly. “Because together we are unstoppable.”

He leaned forward and gave her another kiss. “Exactly.”

They stayed close for a little while, not speaking further and just enjoying each other’s close proximity. Then Fitz broke the silence.

“You know that ethical problem- would you- if you knew a baby was going to grow up to be a- a mass murderer, would you kill them?”

Simmons frowned. “I know of it.”

“I was just thinking- Kasius might be born one day. Would it be ethical to kill baby Kasius?”

Simmons laughed. “I can’t imagine him as a baby. I think he just sprouted out of the ground as a narcissistic dictator.”

“Amazing grasp of biology, Dr Simmons.”

“To answer your question, I don’t know if it’d be ethical, but I would certainly feel tempted to do something if I ever saw him again.”

That wasn’t exactly surprising. Fitz was well aware of Simmons’s tendency towards vengeance. “Let’s hope we don’t have to make that decision, then. I- I think it’d be nice to leave that responsibility on someone else’s shoulders for a change.”

Simmons hummed in agreement.

This was nice, Fitz thought. Though he was still furious to think that Simmons had been put through any of that, it was a relief to have a conversation about these things that didn’t reduce one- or both- of them to a crying mess.

He hoped next time would go just as smoothly. Maybe they were beginning to get the hang of this.

.

To travel through the next quadrant of space they needed to get permission- as far as FitzSimmons could tell, it was the alien, space version of a visa. There was nothing that anyone could do but wait for the paperwork to be completed. Who knew that space travel would end up being so boring?

“If this ship doesn’t start moving soon…” Fitz complained.

“Well, if you’re bored, we could always-”

Fitz sighed. “I know exactly what you’re going to say.”

“I believe that we are around half way through. We have been making excellent progress!” Simmons enthused.

Fitz seemed less convinced. “We still have double what we’ve been through left to go.” He sighed. “When they said that our lives would change after joining SHIELD, I didn’t imagine this was what they meant.”

“Oh, Fitz,” Simmons sounded sympathetic. “It hasn’t been all bad, has it?”

“No.” Fitz admitted, “But I don’t know if the pros are enough for me anymore. I- I don’t know what I want to do when we get back.”

Simmons looked down, her previous light having left. “...You might have the right idea.”

Worried that he’d upset her, Fitz reached over and squeezed her shoulder. “Hey, you’re right, though. Let’s think about that later. You want to pull another trauma out of your bag of nightmares?”

“We do seem to be handling them better.” Simmons stated, producing the bag and quickly retrieving a slip. When she saw what was written on it she grimaced.

Curious, Fitz leaned closer to see what was written, and had a similar expression at the sight of it. Ah.

“Well,” He spoke with a strange tone. “I suppose that is something that we- that we need to talk about.”

Simmons shut her eyes and angled her body away from him. He felt an uncomfortable turn in his stomach. Perhaps he shouldn’t have included this one in the bag.

“I suppose it is.” Simmons eventually agreed, her voice low.

Still, there was no taking it back now- and, besides, they really did need to talk about this. Even though years had passed, the fact that she’d left after his injury still bothered him. Whenever he was reminded of that time he still felt that spark of inadequacy grow in his chest. He knew that he would never be good enough for her- he didn’t like to think of the time when she had thought the same.

“Look, I know you- I know you don’t feel the same way now. Obviously. I just…” He groaned, rubbing his head, “It hurt like hell when you went away.”

“I didn’t have a choice, Fitz.”

“You didn’t- Jemma, I- I know you- I know you asked for that- for that assignment.” He didn’t want to get angry. The whole point of this was to openly discuss their issues maturely, like the adults that they were. So he took a breath and tried to keep himself from snapping. “You don’t have to- you can be honest.”

“I am being honest.” It seemed that she was also trying to keep her voice level. She hesitated, then turned back around to face him. “Oh, Fitz, I know you couldn’t see it, but my presence was hurting you. I was holding back your recovery. I couldn’t stand to see myself hurting you like that.”

Fitz opened his mouth to counter her, then shut it again as his brain processed what she’d just said. “Wai- what?”

Simmons frowned. “What is it?”

Fitz looked at her strangely. “Is tha- what do- Jemma- why di- why did you leave?”

Simmons eyes widened and she brought her hand to her mouth as she realised what was happening here.

“Did you not ever work it out?”

He was frantically trying to analyse the events of the past few years. “I- I thought you- I thought it- I thought you didn’t- didn’t like the new me and- and I’d scared you wi- with confessing.”

There was a look of horror on her face. “No!” Then she quickly added: “I won’t pretend that I was coping with it well, and I will admit that I did not know how to react to your feelings, but that wasn’t… it wasn’t  _ you _ .”

“Te- Tell me why you left.”

She sighed deeply. “Like I said, my presence was hurting you. You kept trying to impress me with your recovery, and you became so angry with yourself when it took time- and you were comparing yourself to me.” Then, quieter, she added: “And I didn’t know how to cope. I didn’t know how to treat you. I just kept upsetting you and I didn’t know how to stop.”

“N-No, that’s not- you didn’t-” He looked up at her earnestly. “That wasn’t- it wasn’t you- I wasn’t used to things and I- I didn’t know how to communicate with you, but it wasn’t- that wasn’t your fault.”

“I appreciate your attempts to comfort me, Fitz, but we both remember that time. You can’t seriously think that I dealt with that well.”

“Well… no.” He eventually admitted. “But i- it was difficult. No one coped with it- no one dealt with it well.”

“That doesn’t exactly make it any better.”

Fitz sighed. He couldn’t really argue with that. Those few months after his injury had been hell. Mack and Hunter had really been the only people who had known how to act around him, and while it hurt to be treated like that by those he cared about, it was a hurt that he’d learnt how to live with.

After a moment, Simmons spoke up again quietly. “Fitz… regardless of my reasons, I still… I still left. I didn’t want to hurt you. That was the whole point. But it did hurt you, and you’re allowed to be upset about that.”

Fitz hunched in on himself, his hand shaking. “I can’t believe you- I can’t believe you thought you were hurting me.” When she tried to interrupt he shook his head. “W- We could’ve worked through it. If you’d told me.”

Simmons looked away. “I’m sorry.”

“N- No, no, hey. I wasn’t- I didn’t mean-” He groaned. “I’m not- I’m not blaming you. I know it’s passed, there’s no- what’s the point in playing the blame game? There was more- there was a lot happening. I just mean- this is why we have to talk about things.”

“Oh.” Simmons understood what he was trying to say. “To avoid these situations.”

“Right.” Fitz agreed, smiling softly. “It’s- it’s why suppression isn’t- it’s not good, because you’re not really dealing with it. You’re just pretending it’s not there. It’s like- um- it’s like a painkiller.”

Simmons laughed quietly, but nodded. “I understand, I think. You’re saying that suppressing these things, and acting without consulting every relevant party, causes temporary relief without addressing the root cause, and therefore isn’t a sustainable long-term solution.”

“So we- we’re going to talk about these things. Not just what’s in your bag. In the- in the future, too. Whenever we face problems like this, we’re going to do it together.”

Simmons looked over at him fondly. “We are. It would be foolish not to because, after all, we are unstoppable together.”

.

“How can you  _ misplace _ your  _ credits _ ?” Fitz was complaining quietly to Simmons, glaring at the captain out of the corner of his eye.

“Shush,” Simmons hushed, nervous that he’d be overheard, “Just let them handle it.”

Fitz grumbled. “If we get stranded here because our oh-so-great captain lost his wallet-”

Simmons grabbed his arm and pulled him deeper into the ship before he started a fight with a member of the crew. She kept her hand on his arm until they were far enough away from ear-shot, then fixed him with a glare.

He blinked over at her. “What’s that look for? I wasn’t wrong.”

“I’m not disagreeing with you.” She still kept her voice low, just in case. “I just don’t want to get kicked out of the only spaceship going anywhere  _ near _ home because you upset the captain.”

“Because I- Jemma, there was  _ no way _ he could’ve heard me.” Then, after a pause: “You don’t- you don’t think he heard me. Do you?”

“I don’t know. I just thought it would be better to be safe than sorry.”

Fitz groaned and dropped his head into his hand. “If I have to spend another hour on this ship I will kill someone. Probably myself.”

Simmons gave him a look, not appreciating that type of joke. He ducked his head and offered an apologetic half-smile. She let her gaze soften, before gently tugging him into the rec room they were stood outside. There was no point in standing in the corridor when there were more-or-less comfortable seats just a room away.

They sat in companionable silence for a solid thirty seconds, before:

“Can we please talk about something before I- I go even madder from boredom?” It was Fitz who spoke first.

“What would you like to talk about?”

“...I didn’t plan this far ahead.”

Simmons chuckled softly. “Well, there is always a little bag full of stimulating conversation starters.”

“Ah.” Fitz spoke dryly, “Exactly the type of conversation I was hoping for.”

“If you don’t want to-”

“No, no. Go on then. Let’s see what terror’s waiting for us this time.”

Simmons quickly took a slip out of the bag, groaning when she read it. Fitz raised an eyebrow and held his hand out for the slip, grimacing when he saw what was written. It wasn’t great, but then again, nothing in this bag was going to be. That would rather defeat the purpose.

“Look,” Fitz decided to begin, “I don’t really blame you for what happened to us after joining the team.”

“Oh, but it  _ is _ true that I pushed you into the field. You weren’t ready for it, and I knew it.”

“ _ We _ weren’t ready.” Fitz quickly cut in. “But we didn’t know what was going to happen.”

“Well, no, but perhaps we should have known. Everyone was very keen to inform us of the potential dangers- do you not remember that talk Professor Vaughn gave us when he heard?”

Fitz groaned. “I don’t want to think about any of Professor Vaughn’s speeches ever again, but especially not  _ that _ one. It was as if he was actively trying to put us to sleep.”

“Or give us nightmares. He seemed so sure that we’d end up kidnapped and tortured.”

“He wasn’t exactly wrong…”

That took the humour out of Simmons. She glanced away. “Do you think it was foolish of us?”

“What was? Joining the team?”

“Yes. Everything terrible that happened afterwards… I can’t help but wonder what would have happened if we hadn’t joined.”

Fitz hummed. “I don’t know. We still would’ve been working for SHIELD. Did you hear about what happened at SciOps during the uprising?”

Simmons paled slightly. “...Right. I suppose it is a good thing that we were not there.”

“Yeah.” He brought his arm around Simmons, “There’s no- not really any point in thinking about what could’ve been. What could’ve been wasn’t. But may- maybe- maybe we could talk about what we’re gonna do next?”

Simmons looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

“Jemma, I don’t feel safe at SHIELD. I haven’t for a long time, but not- especially not after the Framework. I don’t want anything like that to happen again.”

Simmons blinked, still not understanding.

Fitz sighed. “What you want- what you do is up to you. I’m not gonna try to influence that. I just don’t want to keep working for SHIELD.”

“Oh.”

“If you want to keep working for SHIELD then we can work something out, but-”

“No. No, I mean,” She sighed. “I think that’s a good idea. SHIELD has been in our lives for over a decade, it’s not going to be easy to move on from that, but… I saw your body. If nothing else made the dangers of that life real to me, that did. I don’t want to risk anything like that happening again. When we get home, we can talk to Mack about retiring.”

Fitz held her tighter and planted a kiss to her forehead.

.

Simmons was sat by one of the ship’s windows, staring out at the vast space around them. Over the past year she hadn’t really allowed herself the time to stop and look at it, so for the first time she was realising just how beautiful it was. There was something quite lovely, she decided, about being able to see alien stars without feeling terror or grief or desperation.

She heard footsteps approaching and looked up, smiling as she saw Fitz. He was holding two cups in his hands, in them something vaguely resembling tea. Simmons sat up and shifted to the side to give him space to sit beside her, and took the cup that he was offering out to her.

“What are you thinking?” Fitz asked after taking a sip of his almost-tea.

Simmons looked him in the eyes, her gaze warm. “Just that it seems we finally found something magnificent in space.”

Fitz shared her loving look, but before he could get too comfortable, Simmons continued.

“Those  _ puffs _ . I’ve never experienced anything like them. I wish we had something like them on Earth.” At Fitz’s heart-broken look, she started to laugh. “I’m sorry. I have literally been waiting  _ years _ to get back at you for that.”

“I can’t believe you even remember that.”

“Of course I remember. I couldn’t let you just  _ win _ that.”

“...I can believe you’d remember, now.”

Simmons set her almost-tea down and shifted, her elbow digging into Fitz’s side uncomfortable. He scowled and looked over to see what she was up to, rolling his eyes when he caught sight of the now-familiar brown bag. “Really?”

She looked over at him innocently. “I think we have rather gotten the hang of this, so I don’t see what the problem is.”

She wasn’t entirely wrong, so he relented, reaching out for the bag. He snagged a slip of paper and opened it, shutting his eyes for a moment and exhaling when he read it.

“Okay. This is one of mine. I’ll just- I’ll just say it.” He opened his eyes again and looked at her. She was watching him with rapt attention. “It’s- it’s about when you jumped. Out of the plane. With the Chitauri virus.”

She frowned. “That was years ago. You still think about it?”

He let out a choked laugh, then spoke firmly. “ _ Yes _ .”

“I had no idea.” Her eyes were wide. “Tell me more?”

He set his almost-tea down and rubbed at his face. “That day was- it was hell. I know it- it was worse for you, but it was still  _ hell _ for me. I hated being in the field- it was frightening- but  _ nothing _ could’ve ever been- been more frightening than seeing you just-  _ drop _ .”

She didn’t take her eyes off of him as he spoke, setting her own almost-tea aside next to his and reaching out to clasp his free hand, silently encouraging him to continue.

“You fell and I- I didn’t know- I didn’t know if you’d be  _ okay _ . And it made me realise that I didn’t know- didn’t  _ want _ to know- what my life would be like without you. But for- for a few seconds I had to consider it, and it terrified me. It still does.”

“I had no idea…” Simmons said again, her voice quieter and more distant. She had a thoughtful look on her face.

“Jemma?”

“You just reminded me of how I felt at the bottom of the ocean, and for the nine days afterwards.”

“Oh. Oh, hell- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“No, no. It’s… fine. I’m fine. It’s just interesting that we had similar realisations in similar situations.”

He gave her a strange look. “ _ Interesting _ isn’t the word I’d use for it.”

“I think we have a problem.” Simmons continued as if he hadn’t spoken.

“ _ Yeah _ . Isn’t that the whole point of this?”

She glared at him, but the look was without its usual fire. “I mean a specific problem. We’re both too quick to sacrifice ourselves for each other.”

“Ah.” That was it, that was all he had to say to that.

“I’m never going to stop wanting to save you. There’s not any version of reality where that happens, and I know that you feel the same way but, perhaps, it would be prudent to consider alternatives?”

“What alternatives did you have in mind?”

She frowned, thinking. “I’m… not actually sure. I suppose it would depend on the circumstances, wouldn’t it? But, in general- perhaps we should attempt to slow down when in these situations. Discuss them with each other fully, if possible. At least if we discuss these things with each other we won’t need to worry about being surprised by a sudden self-sacrifice in the field.”

Fitz hummed in agreement, then added: “If we even end up back in the field.”

Simmons relaxed, smiling. “Right. Perhaps when we return home we will never have to worry about this type of thing ever again.”

.

Simmons hummed lightly as she dried her hair, flicking through a Naro-Atzian medical journal that she’d salvaged from one of the old storage rooms as she did so. There wasn’t enough time in a human lifespan to learn everything that she wanted to about alien lifeforms, but this was a decent enough introduction, at least.

She’d made her way about a quarter of the way through her book before the door slammed open and an irritated ( and soaking wet ) Fitz appeared.

She shut the book and looked over at him curiously, trying not to laugh at the state he’d found himself in. Judging from the glare he was sending her way, she didn’t try hard enough to keep her amusement off of her face.

“It’s not funny.” He snapped, snatching her towel off of her shoulders and causing her damp hair to drop down.

“Hey! I wasn’t finished with that!”

“Yes, well,” He grumbled, drying off his face and starting to work on his hair. “I’m clearly in more need of it than you are.”

“Did you forget how the showers work again?”

“Don’t you start. I’ve already heard it all from Enoch. Who makes taps that look like light switches?”

“Aliens, apparently.”

He responded to her stating-the-obvious by throwing the towel at her face. She caught it and grinned, returning to drying her hair. He realised what he’d just thrown and began to approach her.

“Simmons. I need that.”

“Perhaps you should have thought of that before you gave it up.”

Fitz darted forwards and tried to snatch the towel off of her, but Simmons was expecting that and had already tightened her grip. As a result, they just ended up briefly playing a game of tug-of-war, until Simmons toppled backwards onto the bed. Fitz smirked, his previous irritation seemingly gone, and leaned over, snatching the towel from her hand now that her grip had temporarily loosened.

Despite having seeming lost, Simmons wasn’t going to give up that easily. She reached up and pulled Fitz closer, leaning in and pressing her lips to his. She waited a few moments for Fitz to get comfortable in the kiss, before pulling the towel out of his hands and slipping out from underneath him, darting to the other side of the room before he could stop her and laughing triumphantly.

Fitz looked over at her, betrayed. “You used me.”

“You stole from me first. It’s only fair.”

“You  _ used _ me.” Fitz repeated, melodramatically flopping face-down onto the bed.

“Aw, Fitz.” Simmons couldn’t help but laugh over how pathetic he was. She finished drying off her hair, then approached him, giving him a quick order. “Sit up.”

He hesitated, before obediently following her instructions. She climbed onto the bed behind him, sitting so her legs were either side of her body, and gently drying his hair with the towel. He relaxed into her, happily letting her massage his head, her previous ‘betrayal’ forgotten.

“Feeling better now?” She asked after a while, her tone dripping with patronisation.

He gave a grunt half-way between annoyance and gratefulness that Simmons chose to take as a win.

When he was relaxed, Simmons reached behind her to where she’d left the bag beside their bed. Fitz noticed her movement, rolling her eyes when he saw what she was fetching.

“We’re over half-way through, Fitz. We might as well continue now.”

“Right, right.”

Simmons stuck her hand inside and pulled out a slip. “Oh.”

Fitz looked back at her and raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“...I’m not sure if I want to say. It rather ruins the mood.”

“It’s a bag of traumas, Jemma. What were you expecting?”

Simmons pulled a face. “Anything other than AIDA?”

Fitz’s mouth went dry. “Oh.”

“We can put it back in?” Simmons offered, “Wait for another day, when you feel more able to talk about it.”

“There’s not going- not going to be a day I feel more able to talk about it.” Fitz replied, his demeanour completely changing from only a few seconds ago as he began to close himself off.

“Okay.” Simmons tried to keep her tone light and compassionate, but in all honesty, she didn’t know what she was doing. By this point she liked to think that she had experience with trauma, but nothing could have prepared her for even a single thing that had come from the Framework.

Fitz angled his face away from her so she couldn’t read his expression. “...I don’t know what to say.”

Simmons sat backwards, curling her legs underneath her to give Fitz more room to process his emotions. “You could start by telling me how you feel?”

He let out a bitter laugh. “Not good.”

“Can you tell me more than that?”

Fitz rubbed at his face with his hand and, for a few moments, Simmons thought he wasn’t going to speak. Then, eventually, he did. “I feel disgusted. Disgust _ ing _ . Everything she- she did, and everything I did, it’s- I know it was only rea-really for a few days, but I’ve got a whole lifetime full of memories, and it’s-” 

He stopped, trying to work out how to put what he wanted to say. “I know she turned me into- made me do those things, but it didn’t feel like that. It didn’t feel like I- like I was forced. It felt like my choice. It felt like- like I liked it. And now she’s gone but- but you know that  _ he _ isn’t. He still just- he says what she’d say. It’s like I can’t get rid of her.”

He seemed to be finished. Simmons took a few moments to process everything she’d said then, cautiously, began talking. “Fitz… I need to be honest with you. I don’t know how to help you with all of this. I don’t know if what I try is going to be helpful, or if it’s going to make matters worse- but I want to try. Tell me if I’m being unhelpful, okay?”

Simmons waited for Fitz to nod, before continuing.

“You’re not disgusting. What happened- what she did- that was abuse. It was wrong, but it wasn’t your fault. She took your choice away from you, and she manipulated you to think that you still had it.”

Fitz tensed, and when she looked over, Simmons could see that tears were streaking down Fitz’s face. She felt her heart break, and wished more than anything that she could just hold him and love away all of his pain and past trauma, but she knew better than most that wasn’t how the world worked.

So, instead, she reached her hand up and dropped it onto his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze, and he brought his up, holding onto her as if she was a lifeline.

For a little while they stayed there, and Simmons was reminded of their reunion in the pod when all of this had first come to light. When she felt Fitz begin to relax under her, and his tears stopped falling at the same frantic rate, she spoke up again.

“Anytime you want to talk about it, you can. I’m always going to be here for you, and I’m always going to want to listen and to help.” She hesitated for a moment. “But I’m not sure if I’m fully qualified to help with every aspect, and there may be elements that you don’t feel comfortable sharing with me. Perhaps you could consider talking to someo-”

“I’ll think about it.” Fitz cut in, his voice still shaky, but when he continued it sounded a lot more stable. “...Thanks, Jemma. I was- I- I worried, about what- what you thought.”

Simmons felt her heart breaking all over again. “Oh, Fitz… Nothing could ever make me think any differently about you- especially not something like this. I love you, and I always will. No matter what happens.”

He moved so he could face her properly. His cheeks were dry of tears now, but his eyes were still red-rimmed. “I don’t understand how you can- how you can- why you’d say that.”

She smiled sadly. “Wouldn’t you say the same to me?”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“You don’t have a- a-” He gestured to his head. “-an evil, bloody, version of you in- in your head. You don’t have that, uh, that capa- capacity for evil.”

Simmons leaned forward and took his hands in her own. “Listen to me now, Fitz. You’re not a bad person because of what was done to you, or because of your illness.  _ Everyone _ has a certain capacity for cruel acts, anyway- you’re talking as if I haven’t killed anyone.”

Fitz frowned. “That’s different. That’s- self defence isn’t- it’s not the same as- as pre-meditated murder.”

Simmons laughed bitterly. “Self defence? Fitz, do you not remember Bakshi?”

“N-No, that’s- he was- he- he killed people, and tor- tortured people. Killing him’s not- it’s not the same as killing someone inno- killing Agnes.”

Simmons dropped eye contact, her gaze falling to her lap. “Fitz… that wasn’t your fault. You didn’t have a choice. It was like…” She let out a breath, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand nervously. “...Did anyone tell you what happened while I was undercover at HYDRA?”

Fitz looked at her curiously, still frowning. “Wha- what, specifically?”

“Donnie Gill.”

“...No.”

“Well- Bakshi wanted me to prove my loyalty.” Simmons grimaced. “They sent me to capture him. Told me to reactivate his brainwashing. If I’d refused, I likely would have been shot, or brainwashed myself. So I did it, and SHIELD had no choice but to kill him to prevent further casualties.”

Fitz was silent for a few moments, then, “...That wasn’t your fault.”

“You’re right.” Simmons agreed, looking up to meet his gaze again. “In a sense, I had no choice. Just as you had no choice in the Framework.”

Fitz bit his lip. “...It still- it doesn’t- it doesn’t feel like… it still feels like it was me. Still feels like I wanted to hurt people.”

“I know. And if I could take that away from you, then I would, but I don’t think anyone can do that, except for maybe you, yourself.” Simmons smiled softly at him. “But I know you. I know that you wouldn’t ever choose to hurt an innocent person. You are the most compassionate person that I know. That’s why I can say without a single doubt that I will always love you, because I know that there is nothing  _ you _ would do that could challenge that.”

“...I don’t know if I believe in that.”

“That’s okay. You don’t have to. Just believe in me.”

Fitz hesitated, then gave a cautious nod, shifting closer so he could drop his head on her shoulder. Simmons let go of his hands, instead choosing to gently comb her fingers through his curls.

.

Simmons was having a rather impressive staring contest with a vaguely familiar alien food. Fitz had been watching her for a few minutes now, and he wasn’t entirely sure what was on her mind.

He’d seen the food before, once, when his ship had been stolen. Enoch had told him not to eat it, so that had been that. He had no idea what Simmons apparent fixation with those things was about, and despite how much he tried to puzzle it over in his head, he found that he couldn’t come up with a satisfying answer.

His curiosity became too much, so with a huff he walked over, standing next to her with his arms crossed. “What is it?”

Simmons blinked up at him as if being pulled out of a trance. “What… what is what?”

He nodded to the puffies. “You’ve been staring at them for the past five minutes.”

“Have I?” Simmons asked, looking a bit embarrassed. “Are you sure that you’re not imagining things?”

“Is that a psychosis joke, Simmons?”

Simmons looked startled. “What?”

“Trying to make me think that my concern comes out of paranoia or delusions is very out of taste.”

Simmons stared at him for a moment, bewildered, and Fitz quickly came to realise that she hadn’t picked up on the fact that he was trying to mess with her.

“I’m, um, that was, uh, a joke.”

“Oh. Very funny!” Her tone made it blatantly obvious that she didn’t believe her words.

Fitz relaxed his stance and leaned against the counter, nodding at the puffies again. “Um, really though, what are those? Enoch told me they’re ‘not for terran consumption’.”

“That certainly would make sense.”

Fitz frowned. “Did you eat one?”

Simmons pulled a face, confirming Fitz’s suspicions. He sent her a sympathetic look.

“Did it make you sick?”

Simmons glanced away. “I wouldn’t say that, exactly…”

“Then what-”

“I saw you in a monkey outfit.”

Fitz blinked. Confused. Whatever he’d been expecting, it hadn’t been  _ that _ . “Uh. What?”

“They must be some type of psychedelic or, at least, that’s the effect they have on humans. Daisy, Davis and I didn’t realise it. Hallucinations, disorganised thinking, euphoria- it was all very strange, and  _ very _ lovely.” Simmons spoke with a fond smile.

Fitz thought about making a joke about how he didn’t need recreational drugs to get a similar effect, but after how his last psychosis joke went down decided against it. So, instead he activated concerned-fiance-mode. “You’re not thinking about eating one now, are you?”

Simmons continued to avoid eye contact. “Well, I was only  _ thinking _ about it.”

Fitz took her by the arm and gently guided her away from the rogue puffies. “We don’t know the full effects they’d have on human biology, yeah? Best to stay safe.”

Simmons exaggeratedly rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t have eaten any without running extensive tests first. Honestly, Fitz, who do you take me for? I’m not Davis.”

Fitz gave her a strange look, but decided against questioning her further. The more information he was given, the more confused he became- this one, he decided, he was just going to leave be. Instead he led her over to the seating area, pulling her down to sit beside him. “If you need help to keep your mind off of them, I have a suggestion.”

Simmons turned to face him fully, raising an eyebrow. “You do?”

“Yeah. You, uh, you seem awfully fond of your little bag of horrors, and I- I’ve got to admit, it is distracting, at least.”

“That’s the spirit!” Simmons teased lightly, reaching into her pocket and pulling out the bag, before offering it to Fitz.

Fitz stuck his hand about, fishing for a slip of paper. “There aren’t many of these left.” He commented as he pulled one out.

“Huh,” Simmons mused, “I suppose we’ll likely be finished by the time we get back to Earth. It’ll be nice to finally be cured of our trauma.”

Fitz looked up at her, startled.

“...I’m joking.”

Fitz rolled his eyes and looked down to read the slip that he’d pulled out, his fond smile freezing when he saw what was there. He crumpled the paper in his fist and groaned, bringing his hand up to rub at the back of his neck.

“Is it really that bad?” Simmons asked nervously.

“Not really.” Fitz admitted after a moment. “Not compared to the other, uh, the other topics we’ve talked about.”

Simmons held her hand out. “Then show me?”

Hesitantly, Fitz passed the crumpled slip of paper to Simmons. To her credit, her expression remained neutral as she read it. She placed it down on the table beside them and looked away, gathering her thoughts.

“You know that’s not true, right?” She nodded to the paper.

Fitz pressed his lips together. “I don’t see why else you would have befriended me.”

She scoffed. “Fitz, I’d been trying to befriend you for  _ months _ before then. It wasn’t pity, and it certainly wasn’t out of a desire to fix you. I’ve never thought of you as needing ‘fixing’.”

Fitz gave her a look, and he didn’t need to say anything for her to know what he was thinking of. Still, she held her ground.

“I’m telling you the truth! I have already explained why I left back then- it was never because I thought of you as  _ broken _ .”

“That’s not- that’s not what I’m saying,” Fitz cut in. “You can’t deny that there’s- there’s always been an  _ imbalance _ in our relationship there. You- You’ve always been the more confident one. Always dragging me around places.”

“You know that I feel guilty about-”

“-I didn’t mean it like that!” Fitz groaned. “I mean I- you- even before then- you’d drag me out to the boiler room to make me socialise.”

Simmons looked at him strangely. “Is that what you thought I was doing?”

Fitz blinked. “What else could you have been doing?”

“Did it ever occur to you that, possibly, I was inviting you to spend time with me because  _ I  _ wanted to spend time with  _ you _ ?"

Fitz stared.

“...Please tell me you didn’t harbour a deep resentment based on such a basic misunderstanding.”

It took Fitz a moment to find his words again. “It’s not just that.”

Simmons nodded. “Then, by all means, enlighten me.”

“You didn’t tell me about everything that happened, at first. About the other me and about Coulson.”

Simmons winced. “I know. I know, and you had a right to know. I just- I’ve already been over how difficult it was- still is- to talk about.”

“I understand that.” Fitz spoke quickly. “But I don’t… I don’t like you wanting to  _ fix _ me, and I don’t like you having to tip-toe around me. I’m not going to break, Jemma.”

“ _ I know _ .” Simmons spoke a touch more harshly than she’d intended. Then she huffed out a sigh and leaned back, shutting her eyes for a moment. “I don’t think you’re going to break, and I don’t want to fix you. I want to support you, with anything that you chose to do, and- yes- I want to keep you safe, but I’m  _ allowed _ to.”

Fitz grimaced. “That isn’t your job.”

“Isn’t it?” Simmons challenged. “Isn’t that exactly what I signed up for when I agreed to marry you- what you signed up for when you proposed? That’s besides the point- isn’t that exactly what you’ve been doing for the past years?”

“What do you mean?”

“All of the times you’ve saved me. Not only those times- the weeks you spent by my side while I recovered from Maveth, how gentle you were with me after  _ you _ returned from Maveth, the way you always prioritise my safety above all else- even when I would never ask that of you. I mean, you cryogenically froze yourself based on a child’s drawing, Fitz.”

“That’s taking things out of context just a bit.”

“I just mean- this isn’t something that goes one way. Why should it be okay for you to protect me, but not for me to try to do the same? Why is it some grand statement when you do it, but when I try you see it in the worst possible light? Why can I not want to save you?”

Fitz let out a breath, tapping his hand against the table. “That isn’t what I- that isn’t what this is- I’m not saying that-”

Simmons shook her head and let out her own breath, running her hand through her hair and speaking in a calmer tone. “...Do you not think that you deserve to be saved?”

Fitz fell silent for a few moments. “...It isn’t about you, Jemma. I’m sorry. I know you- I know you’ve always just wanted to help. It’s my- my problem.”

“But that’s the thing,” Simmons spoke, reaching forwards to take his hand. “It doesn’t have to be. Unstoppable together, remember?”

“...Yeah.” Fitz looked down at their joined hands. “You know I don’t have high self-esteem. I don’t like- I don’t like thinking of- you shouldn’t be taking on the burden of looking after me.”

“‘ _ In sickness or in health _ ’. That’s all I’m doing, Fitz.” She stroked gentle circles over the back of his hand with her thumb. “If you want to keep saving me and taking care of me, then you can. But you have to let me do the same for you, too. It just isn’t fair otherwise.”

“Why do you always have to be smart?”

“Well, I suppose that one of us has to be.” Simmons said casually, but was unable to stop herself from grinning when he gave her an offended look.

Fitz pulled his hands back away from her. “If that’s the way you see m-”

He was cut off by Simmons reaching forwards and grabbing him, pulling him closer so she could kiss him. After a moment she pulled back, a smug smile on her face. “You were saying?”

“...Doesn’t matter.” Fitz said, leaning back in and continuing the kiss.

.

Fitz looked over the star-charts, feeling a level of calm that he hadn’t felt in a long time- not since before the Framework, at  _ least _ . According to his calculations, if they continued at their current pace it wouldn’t be longer than a week until they got back home.

“I can’t wait to have a proper shower.” Fitz spoke wistfully.

Simmons looked over and wrinkled her nose. “Have you not been bathing?”

“Wha- no- I mean- of course I’ve been- I just meant- I want to have a shower without worrying about the temperature changing.”

“Ah. That makes more sense.” Simmons walked over and looked at the star charts, smiling. “I can’t wait to introduce you to Deke.”

Fitz looked over at her. “Yeah… the grandson. I still don’t know how to feel about that.”

“You’ll love him!” Simmons enthused, “He really is rather amazing- I supposed that’s a given, considering who his grandparents are…”

“Yeah, yeah.” Fitz rolled his eyes fondly.

“Oh! You know, if we’ll be arriving home soon, we should really try to have another  _ conversation _ . Wouldn’t it be lovely to have them all finished by the time we get back?”

Fitz squinted. “You know that just- just having one conversation isn’t enough to totally resolve all of our trauma, right?”

Simmons didn’t respond, already pulling her bag out of her pocket. By now it was a bit tattered, but it was still serving its purpose well. She pulled out a slip of paper, her face falling as soon as she read it.

“That bad?” Fitz asked.

Simmons passed the slip to him then turned, walking to the door and shutting it so no one could overhear whatever it was they were about to talk about.

“What’s a ‘Fear Dimension’?”

Simmons sighed, rubbing at her arm. She looked everywhere around the room, except for at him. “I think you should sit down.”

Fitz didn’t move. “Jemma.”

Simmons finally looked in his direction, though she still avoided eye contact. She crossed the room to him, gently guiding him to one of the chairs along the wall. She took a seat next to him and dropped her hands into her lap, staring intently down at them.

“There was an- an incident, involving the three monoliths. I believe that you saw them while at the Lighthouse. In any case, they were blown up, and the result was this energy that you called a ‘Fear Dimension’. Somehow it was able to read our minds and manifest our worst fears. Lash, Hive, Kree Warriors, LMDs- the Lighthouse was full of them, and the energy was only getting stronger. It reached the point where within a few hours it would have grown strong enough to impact the town beyond the Lighthouse.”

Fitz frowned. “That sounds frightening.”

Simmons forced a smile. “It was. But that isn’t what I wanted to talk about.”

“Okay…”

“You were working to fix it. You wanted to save everyone and close the Fear Dimension, but you pushed yourself too far. You weren’t sleeping or eating, and you wouldn’t accept any help I offered you. And I was so busy myself, that I didn’t notice how bad things had become, until…”

“Until…?”

Simmons brought her hand up and rubbed at her face, falling silent as she tried to find the right words.

“You had a total psychotic break with reality. You were doing things without realising you were doing them, seeing things without realising there was nothing there, acting in ways that you never would have had you been in the right frame of mind.”

Fitz felt dread claw its way up his chest. “What did I do.”

“The only way to stop the Fear Dimension was for Daisy to use her powers to contain it within a device that you had created. But Daisy’s powers had been inhibited by Kasius, and she didn’t want to have them back.”

“Jemma…”

“You hallucinated the doctor, and from that influence you held Daisy down and forcibly removed her inhibitor.”

“...Was she hurt?” Fitz asked, his voice small.

“Yes.” Simmons couldn’t lie to him. “It was dangerous. She was hurt, and violated.”

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

Finally, Simmons looked over at him. He was pale and shaking, still staring at Simmons with wide, tear-filled eyes.

“But, Fitz, it isn’t your fault.  _ You _ didn’t do it, and Daisy knows that- she spent the past year with me, searching for you. She doesn’t blame you for his actions, and-”

“No.” Fitz spoke with more power than Simmons had thought him capable of at the moment. “You don’t- you can’t- you don’t get to- we’re either the same all of the time or none of the time. You don’t get to pick and choose which of his actions you can credit me with. You can’t do that.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Yes it is! You keep talking as if we’re the same, but when he did something bad- when he  _ hurt Daisy _ \- then suddenly it- it’s  _ him _ not  _ me _ .”

“That isn’t what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean! Because all I can see is that I- the- that I have the potential to- to hurt- to  _ violate _ one of my best friends!”

“The situation was more complicated than that!” Simmons finally raised her voice in response. “You didn’t just wake up and decide to hurt her. We were in a  _ life or death _ situation, everyone made  _ terrible decisions _ and, yes, it  _ was _ a terrible decision, but we have no idea what would have happened if you hadn’t made it, and-”

“Are you actually  _ defending _ him?"

“It was  _ complicated _ !”

“Yes, you’ve  _ said _ that already.”

Simmons sighed and rubbed at her head again. “We saw the end of the world, Fitz. We were trying to change the future. We had to make decisions like that. He- you- weren’t the only one. Yo-Yo killed a teenager, Daisy dug up her mother’s body, and I’ve already explained to you what  _ I _ did with the acid. We all made mistakes, but every single one of those mistakes led to us succeeding.”

Fitz stayed silent for a while, before breathing out heavily, his leg bouncing up and down. “...How am I supposed to look Daisy in the eyes?”

“Oh, Fitz… Daisy doesn’t hold anything against you. She understands and, yes, perhaps you two  _ should _ talk about it, but she isn’t angry with you.”

“N-No, I mean, I- that’s- yeah I- I am, I’m worried about whether she’d still want to be my friend, but- I mean- knowing tha- that that’s- knowing that’s inside me- even if I didn’t do it, knowing that there’s a part of me that’s capable of that.” His jaw set. “It’s what I’ve been scared of, since the Framework. The doctor coming out. Hurting people I love.”

Simmons reached forwards cautiously, resting her hand on his knee. “Fitz… it wasn’t the doctor. Not really. It was still your choice- your choice under the influence of sleep deprivation, acute stress and a severe psychotic episode, but it was still you. The doctor’s just a hallucination. He doesn’t have any power. Your choices are still your own.”

“How do you know that?” Fitz finally looked up at her, a vulnerable look on his face. “What if the hallucination is just the start? We still don’t have a full enough understanding of the side effects of the Framework under- under normal circumstances. What if he- what if I become him?”

“You know,” Simmons spoke with a slight smile, “there was a point where I shared that fear. The doctor does frighten me, I won’t pretend that he doesn’t, but I think, if anything, our brushes with him since the Framework prove that you won’t become him.”

Fitz frowned. “How?”

“Because look at you. You’re terrified of being him. You’re terrified of hurting people. You’re blaming yourself for something  _ you _ never did. You could never be that cold.”

It was clear that Fitz didn’t really believe in her words, but he didn’t argue further. Instead, his shoulders sagged and he fell quiet, the pair of them letting the silence stretch for a few moments before, finally, he spoke up hesitantly again.

“You… the doctor, he scares you?”

“Well, he did shoot me.” Simmons spoke with a grimace. “But it’s… more complicated than that. He scares me, yes, but what scares me more is what he stands for- a world where you’re not with me.”

Fitz looked away, a strange expression on his face. After a moment Simmons realised how her words had been interpreted and reached forwards, taking his hand in her own.

“Oh, Fitz…  _ you _ don’t scare me. I know that you would never hurt me. You have never given me a reason to doubt that.”

Fitz didn’t seem convinced, but he looked up at Simmons and forced a small smile. Without further hesitation, Simmons pulled him towards her and wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

“Everything’s going to be okay. When we get home, we can sort all of this out properly, and I will be with you every step of the way. We’ll do things right this time.”

Fitz didn’t reply, resting his head against her shoulder and shutting his eyes.

.

It was a few days before either of them brought up the bag again, both of them dancing around the topic. Fitz was afraid of what was left in the bag - afraid of any new horrors that were being hidden from him, while Simmons was afraid of hurting him further. They were both well aware of each other’s feelings, even if they didn’t speak them aloud. They’d known each other long enough for that.

They continued to spend time with one another. They continued to talk about anything and everything, apart from what they were both thinking of, but the topic they were avoiding hung heavy in the air whenever they were together, to the point where others began to notice.

“You should speak to Jemma.” Enoch stated, watching attentively as Fitz performed a routine check of the ship’s system.

“I have been speaking to her.” Fitz replied tiredly, making it clear with his tone that he did not want to have this conversation.

“You have not been discussing what you want to discuss.” Luckily, Enoch was a chronicom and, despite his centuries of study of humans, had yet to understand every human social cue. “You should speak to her about-”

“ _ Yes _ . Thank you, Enoch.” Fitz spoke tightly, pausing in his work to turn to his friend. He set his tools aside and placed his hands on Enoch’s shoulders. “Next time I want advice from someone who has no idea what they’re talking about, I’ll be sure to ask you.”

That, Enoch managed to understand. He frowned slightly. “I am only trying to help.”

Fitz sighed and stepped backwards, rubbing his head with his hand. “Yeah. Yeah, I know. Sorry, Enoch. I’m just stressed.”

“I understand.” Enoch schooled his expression back into its normal apathy. “But I do recommend you speak with her.”

Fitz turned back to his work and let out a low hum. He didn’t respond to Enoch, but accepted that the chronicom was right. Avoidance had never worked well between Fitz and Simmons in the past - it would likely be a good idea to find her when he was free and get this over with.

A few hours later, when Fitz’s maintenance shift was over, he returned to his shared bunk with Simmons. He hovered outside the door for a few moments, planning what he was going to say, before pushing the button to open it.

Simmons was already in the room, laying back on top of the covers of their bed, reading her Naro-Atzian book with a small frown from concentration. She seemed to be so engrossed that she didn’t even notice Fitz enter. For a few moments he watched her, a smile growing on his face at the sight, before he reminded himself of what he was here to do.

“So, uh, good book?” He spoke up.

Simmons smiled, setting her book aside and looking over at him warmly. “It is quite interesting, actually. But I get the impression that isn’t what you wanted to talk about?”

Fitz nodded and shuffled further into the room. “Look. I… I know that you’re afraid of hurting me, but if I did- did- if I hurt people, I need to know. I’d prefer to know, than just- just be surprised by it.”

Simmons smile slowly vanished, and she glanced away. “That really was the worst of it, Fitz.”

Fitz hesitated. “Prove it.”

“What do you mean?”

“The- the bag. Pull out another one. Prove there’s nothing worse in there.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Simmons reached over to her coat that was folded neatly over a chair and retrieved the tattered paper bag from her pocket. She looked over at Fitz and held it out to him. “Would you like to do the honours?”

Fitz crossed the room towards her, reaching out a shaky hand and taking a slip of paper from the bag. He held it in his fist for a few seconds, before taking a breath and opening it. He let the air out of his lungs when he read what was written there. “It’s just one I put in.”

Simmons nodded. “What does it say?”

Fitz pocketed the paper and sat on the bed beside Simmons. “I wanted to talk about… in that- that mind prison. I don’t- I don’t want to make you talk about it- talk about- talk about things that you don’t want to. But some of that… some things about your  _ Id _ . I can’t help but wonder where it all came from.”

Simmons shut her eyes, collecting her thoughts. “Well… I suppose you know the worst of it already. The bottom of the ocean, Maveth, Kasius… the Framework. You’ve been there through most of the worst days of my life. I’m sure you can work out most of her… motivators.”

“Yeah.” Fitz agreed quietly, hesitating for a further moment. “There just… was something…”

Simmons looked over at him curiously. “What?”

He hesitated again, before it all came flooding out. “I know that you enjoy dissections, and that I  _ don’t _ , but I really didn’t think that was enough to cause a deep resentment - I don’t mean to undermine your- your passion even if I  _ really _ can’t understand it, but the way she was acting- she tied me up and dangled me upside down in the Zephyr, and I’m not blaming you- we both did awful things in there, but- wait- what’s that look for?”

“Ah? What look?”

“That one.” He gestured vaguely to her face. “Your eyes went all big for a second.”

“Oh. Right. I suppose they did.” She paused. “...I think I know where that came from.”

“Where?”

Simmons looked away, uncomfortable. She did not want to have this conversation with him, but ultimately felt that he should know. She pushed past her natural instincts and tried to make her mouth work. “I was… not in a very good place after you… after what happened.”

Fitz frowned and spoke carefully, “What happened, Jemma?”

“We were trying to find you. I was willing to do anything. So, when we found… persons of interest who wouldn’t comply, we  _ did _ do anything.” She stared down at her lap. “...They weren’t good people. Most of them played a part in endangering you. I don’t feel guilty. But… doesn’t that just make it worse?”

Fitz reached forwards to take her hands, smiling when she finally looked up at him. “I don’t know about the morality of it, but I’m glad that you don’t feel guilty. I think- no, I  _ know _ \- I would’ve done the same in your position.”

Simmons shifted closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. “I am sorry that you had to find out like that. I’m sorry that she tore your spleen out.”

“Heart.” Fitz corrected, then after Simmons gave him a look, he quickly added: “And- uh- I’m sorry about- about what he did, too. That was awful.”

Simmons nodded, satisfied. “Most of it has faded now, anyway. It feels more like a dream than anything.”

Fitz chuckled. “That’s for the best.”

.

Simmons was glad that Fitz seemed to be getting more comfortable again after being told about his break, but she was still concerned. She knew that there was one more slip in that bag that he wouldn’t find easy to hear about. She’d seriously considered taking it out and pretending it had never happened - it would be easy, too. No one knew the specifics of it except for her. She didn’t have to tell him.

Except, that would defeat the point of this whole thing, wouldn’t it?

She wanted to be more honest with Fitz. She wanted him to be able to talk to her when things upset him, and so she had to learn how to talk to him when things upset her. Even if she had buried it deep down and tried very hard not to think of it, there was only so long she could keep it hidden.

After all, while the specifics of it were known only to her, the evidence of it was written on her body. She had already seen the curious way he looked at her unfamiliar scar, and knew it was only a matter of time before he asked about it.

It would be better to explain before then. It would be better to not be caught by surprise.

Knowing that didn’t make it any easier.

Part of her just hoped that slip wouldn’t be pulled from the bag, though with only two left she knew that she couldn’t keep avoiding this for much longer.

So the next time he brought it up, she stopped him. “Actually, I was wondering if I could pick which one to talk about?”

Fitz blinked. “But it’s a blind bag.”

“Well, yes. Except… I folded this one differently. I’ve been… avoiding it.”

“Oh.”

She could see the concern on his face as he ran through all of the possibilities. The fact that she’d hidden it from him just made him more worried.

“Okay.” He finally said, indicating for her to take it out.

She took out the slip and set the bag aside. She didn’t need to read it, so she just crumpled the paper up and put it away into her pocket. “I wasn’t lying when I said that we’ve already spoken about the worst of it.” She began, hoping to alleviate some of his anxiety. “But… that doesn’t mean that there’s nothing more unpleasant to speak about.”

“I know. What is it?”

“...I know you’ve been curious about the scar on my leg. I know that you have wanted to ask me about it, and I appreciate that you haven’t. But I think I ought to tell you.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t-”

“No.” Simmons interrupted. “If I don’t tell you now, then I think that I never will.”

Fitz nodded, but stayed silent.

“Back when everyone was taken into the Framework… well, we never had the time to explain what happened from our side. There was too much going on.” Simmons struggled to find the right words. “AIDA replaced everyone with LMDs. They tried to replace Daisy and I, too- tried to map our brains and upload us into the Framework. They didn’t succeed, but… it was close.”

Fitz held her hand, giving it an encouraging squeeze, urging her to continue.

“I was alone with one of the LMDs. It tried to convince me that  _ I _ was the LMD - that I just didn’t know it, like May. It attacked me, and partially mapped my brain before I was able to… break free and- and deactivate it.”

“Which LMD?”

Simmons looked over at Fitz with a pained smile. “I think you can hazard a guess.”

Fitz inhaled sharply, his eyes tearing up. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Simmons reached up with her free hand and cupped his cheek. “Listen to me. It isn’t your fault, and I have never blamed you. That LMD wasn’t you. It just looked like you. I know that you would never hurt me.”

“But I created the LMDs.” Fitz protested. “The LMDs, the Framework - it was all  _ me _ . Even if- even if I’m not to- to blame for what the LMD did, or- or who I was in the Framework, I’m still to blame for  _ creating them _ in the first place.”

“You’re not!” Simmons tone was harsher, “We’ve been through this, Fitz. The Framework, the LMDs, none of it was your fault. You aren’t to blame for the way that others twist your creations. It’s important to be aware of the consequences of our experimentations, yes, but there is no way to know everything. We can’t see the future.”

“But you got hurt. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have been hurt.”

Simmons laughed, shaking her head.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. Just… Oh, Fitz. Yes, I’ve been hurt because of your actions- don’t look so depressed, I’m not finished. I’ve been hurt because of your actions, just as you have been hurt by mine. That’s just what happens when you’re in a relationship of any kind, and the more you care, the more you put yourself at risk of being hurt. I am sure that, despite our best efforts, we will continue to hurt one another in the future.”

“That isn’t a comforting thought.”

“I  _ said _ that I’m not finished. Even though we’ve caused each other pain, and hurt, and damage - the best moments of my life are with you. I’d face down an army of LMDs, or tolerate years of the Framework, if it meant that I could be with you when it’s all over. I could never have been this happy if you weren’t in my life, Fitz.”

“Me too.” Fitz spoke quietly. “But… if you’re not afraid, and you don’t blame me, then why did you avoid telling me?”

Simmons shrugged. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“You realise how hypocritical you sound?”

“I’ve never said that I’m  _ not _ a hypocrite.” Simmons smiled. “Also… there was one other thing.”

“You might as well just tell me now. Get it over with.”

“I said I had to deactivate it. That’s… rather an understatement.” Simmons winced. “I had to stab it. Over and over. And slit its throat.”

“Oh.”

Simmons looked away, clearly finding the memory of killing something that looked like Fitz more disturbing than the memory of being attacked by something that looked like Fitz. “I knew it wasn’t real, of course. But it still…”

“Looked real.” Fitz finished for her. Simmons looked over in surprise, and Fitz hesitantly continued. “I… I knew it wa- was our plan. But seeing your LMD get killed- it wasn’t easy.”

“Oh.” Simmons spoke quietly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think…”

“No, I didn’t- I didn’t mean to- I just- I know what it’s like.”

“You do, don’t you?” Simmons looked up at him with a smile, and leaned in towards him for a kiss, before-

Around them, the room began to violently shake. Simmons yelped as she fell forwards onto Fitz, causing him to tumblr back onto the bed. The shaking became more extreme, and the pair clung onto each other for stability.

“What the bloody  _ hell _ ?”

“Fitz- I think we’re landing!”

Eventually, the shaking died down and the two jumped up. After confirming that Simmons was right, and that they were on Earth, they grabbed the few belongings they owned and rushed out, eager to reunite with their friends and start living their lives again.

.

Months later, things had changed.

After some long discussion, Fitz and Simmons had decided to take a leave from SHIELD. Neither wanted to risk losing the other again, and so it seemed the most logical course of action. Mack informed them that attempts were being made to reform the Academy, and told them that positions would be open to them there if they chose to accept them. The scientists told him that they would give it some thought - for now, though, they just wanted to get used to being together again after so long.

Life wasn’t perfect. They still had ups and downs. They still didn’t always see eye to eye, and they still fought. But, as always, they worked through their hardships, and more effort was put in from both sides not to ignore feelings just because they were uncomfortable.

They were even beginning to look into therapy, though it was taking time to find a therapist with high enough clearance to be of any help.

One evening, while sorting through some old SHIELD documents, Simmons pulled a crumpled up paper bag out of a storage box, laughing quietly as she remembered what it was. She held it upside down, and let the final slip of paper flutter out into the palm of her hand.

Without reading it, she cleared away her work and started towards her bedroom, poking her head around the door and walking over to where Fitz was waiting for her in bed.

“I know that look. What are you up to?” Fitz asked suspiciously.

“What makes you think I’m up to anything?” Simmons countered with a mock-innocent expression. She lasted a few seconds before giving in. “I found a paper bag…”

Fitz groaned. “Not that bloody bag again.”

“There was only one piece left in it!”

“And I suppose you want to rip open another old wound?”

Simmons smiled.

Fitz huffed out a sigh. “Fine. But if it’s some- some bloody tragedy then don’t blame me.”

Simmons crawled into bed next to him, revealing the slip of paper in her hand. When she was sure that Fitz was paying attention, she unfolded it so that they could both see what was written.

Seeing the words scrawled on the paper, Fitz and Simmons had simultaneous reactions. Simmons burst out with laughter, while Fitz groaned and withered up.

_ ‘Are we not going to talk about what your Id and the Doctor were doing? Because I have some thoughts _ ’


End file.
